In the Cave
by Beth - Geek Chick
Summary: Alternate Universe - Recluse Auggie Anderson works from home for a think tank. His world's about to get turned upside down by a pretty blonde linguist who's been assigned to work with him for a few months.
1. Chapter 1

The highway noise from Washington, DC, precluded rolling down the windows in my car, but now that I'd hit the clearer roads and cleaner air of Virginia State, the windows came down. It'd been a while since my work allowed me to drive to my destination rather than fly to it.

I'd definitely have to pull my hair up as soon as I got there, but I didn't care at the moment. It was a perfect summer day, and the warm summer breeze was too delicious to pass up, so I let it whip my long, wavy blonde locks around my head and the headrest.

The GPS announced the next turn, and I took it. The road looked smaller than a normal county or state road, and it dawned on me that the name of the road, Anderson Lane, coincided with the name of the person I was going to meet – August Anderson.

A private road? Huh, must be, I thought. The grass and trees looked manicured, and as I rounded a curve, a mansion came into view. I automatically slowed down, more in shock than the need to drive more carefully.

Smith and Company, an international think tank based out of Washington, DC, hired me for my linguistics skills, and in the three years I've been with them, I've traveled to a dozen countries. But the house in front of me, hidden deep in the Virginia rolling hillside, could give the castles and estates of Europe a run for their money.

My current project, scheduled to last for several months, was to work with August Anderson. What exactly his work was, I knew little, but that's usually how it was with these types of jobs. Secrecy was pretty much the code word. Secrecy, security levels, need-to-know. I learned quickly not to ask too many questions. Getting paid to travel all around the world on somebody else's dime was enough incentive to shut my eyes and my mouth when needed.

The drive wound around an elevated garden that reminded me of the front of Buckingham Palace. Too soon, my gawking had to stop as I pulled up to the front door. After putting the car in park and shutting off the engine, I ran my hands through my hair, tying the locks with a colorful scarf at my neck.

Briefcase in hand, I rang the doorbell. The wide, bright red double doors made me glad I'd opted for my Chanel suit and Louboutins. First impressions and all, right?

Soon enough, the door opened, and I put on my best smile. It was not returned, though, by the tall, hulk of a man who answered the door. From the dark suit he wore to the close-cropped haircut, nothing about him said "warm," but I refused to be intimidated.

"Hello," I said. "August Anderson?"

Tall guy shook his head, then grunted, "Down the road. You are expected."

Then the door shut in my face, and the noise made me jump in my stilettos. I stood staring at the heavy wooden door for a few seconds before the man's words registered in my brain. Down the road? I didn't pass any other house or building on the way in. My hand raised to press the doorbell again for more information, but given Tall Guy's non-verbose nature, maybe I should just go and try to find this Mr. Anderson on my own. If I was expected, then I shouldn't waste much more time dawdling.

Starting my car back up, I drove down the private road again. I saw now that another road broke off down the side of the house. My initial awe of the estate must have made me miss this.

More manicured lawn and private gardens greeted me as I drove. And drove. How far back did this estate wind? Far enough to have its own pond, complete with fountain in the middle. A low whistle escaped my lips.

A full mile down the road, a small house emerged around the corner. I chuckled at my thoughts. Small only in comparison to the main house, to tell the truth. It still outclassed any other house I'd ever seen. It was a sprawling one story, with a porch that wrapped around the side. Once again, my mouth was dropped open by the time I got to the end of the drive.

My choice of outfit, it seemed, was more than appropriate. I picked up my briefcase and headed for the front door. It wasn't ten-foot tall and doubled, but one glance showed it was expensive.

I hit the doorbell and steeled myself to be greeted by whoever this August Anderson was. By previous experience with the geniuses the Smith and Company think tank employed, I pictured an eccentric man past his prime whose intellect was so immense that his personality and people skills suffered. Whether they were wealthy or just middle class, it didn't make much difference, I'd noticed over the years.

A few seconds after I rang the bell, the door clicked open and swung wide. The interior was shadowed, and to my surprise, no one stood on the other side.

"Hello?" I asked, taking a step forward. I peered into the darkness, pushing my sunglasses up onto my forehead. Nobody answered, and I felt my nerves began to prickle. From the swath of sunlight, I saw hardwood floors and maybe a table.

"Hello?" I said again, a bit louder. As my foot hit the threshold, I stifled a gasp as the place suddenly lit up. Swallowing my fright, I took a few steps into the now brighter room, but still jumped a bit as the door swung shut behind me.

Images of bad horror movies flashed in my head, and I wondered if I should've brought my small pistol with me. It wasn't much, and strictly for self-defense, but –

"In here."

The loud voice broke me out of my thoughts, and I swallowed my fear and followed the sound. The opulence didn't end with the front of the house, I saw. Shining hardwood floors, bare of any kind of rug, reflected the recessed lighting. Simple furniture, but calling leather and rich fabrics "simple" could be the understatement of the year.

I allowed myself a quick look around before I walked through the main living area down a hallway where the male voice had come from. "Mr. Anderson?" I called, my clicking heels sounding louder than normal in the silence.

Another room opened up at the end of the hall, and I walked in. "Mr. Anderson?"

"Here."

I turned toward the voice and saw a man sitting at a table covered with computers and equipment. Surely this couldn't be the man I was looking for, but there was no one else in the house, as far as I could tell.

"Mr. Anderson?"

"Yes."

He still hadn't turned around, so I walked over and stuck out my hand. "Anne Walker, you were expecting me? I'm from Smith, and –"

"I know who you are."

He still hadn't turned, and my hand dropped to my side. "Okay, and you're August Anderson."

Something of a scoff came from him, then he said, "I know what my name is."

I was slowly getting a bit annoyed, so I walked directly beside him. "Do you have a problem with my being here?"

"I work alone," August Anderson said. "I always have, and I'm not sure why you're here."

"Because my boss assigned me here to work with you over the next few months," I said. "The details I was given weren't very clear, so –"

He sighed, long and heavy. The recessed lighting didn't reach this far into the room, and his face was shadowed. Slowly, he turned around, and for the third time that day, my mouth dropped open in shock.

August Anderson was no middle-aged eccentric man. His brown tousled hair hung over his forehead and ears, and his face was chiseled, and though pale, was still handsome. My shock doubled when his eyes emerged from the shadows. Warm brown and completely unfocused.

"Oh, umm, I'm sorry, I didn't know, and – well, they didn't tell me, and –"

A shadow that had nothing to do with the lighting crossed his face, and he turned back to his equipment. I felt five times a heel, and was about to apologize, again, but he spoke again.

"Smith sent some information this morning, if you want to read it," he said, flicking his hand across the room. His shoulders hunched, and I had a feeling that the next few months were not going to be as promising as I first believed.

* * *

**A/N Some info on this story, because as you can see, it's somewhat out of the ordinary. I'd written this months ago in a brainstorming session, but laid it aside. The initial idea I liked, though, so I worked with it some more over the past couple of days. It will be 1****st**** person, past tense, alternating POVs each chapter. Hopefully, I'll be able to stick with that premise. It's new for me to write this way, but a challenge, as well. As such, updates will be later than normal as I get used to new writing style.**

**Please leave a word of review. **

**BTW, I don't like spoilers for upcoming season, as I prefer to watch the show and not read about it in reviews and hype and guessing. Thanks.**


	2. Chapter 2

The alarm announcing someone was at the front door beeped, and I groaned. Damn, I thought. I was hoping this Anne Walker would get lost on the way here and maybe give up. I'd told James this morning to send anyone back who might show up, and it appeared she did.

I pushed a button on my all-house remote to open the door, hoping she'd get the hint and come in. I usually used it for my own use, or to let in my parents when they were home or any of the other handful of people that worked on the estate.

I tried not to let anything interrupt my work, and that included visitors. I opened the door for them, and they did their task and left. Not this visitor, though. Nope. All of the years I'd worked for Smith and Company – the first year at their headquarters and the rest here – I'd worked alone, providing technical analysis on whatever they sent my way.

My immediate supervisor, Joan Campbell, never came here. We talked on the phone, and more than likely, corresponded via e-mail. One such missive last week informed me that my next project required a partner, and I should expect Anne Walker, a linguist, today.

I sent a total of three e-mails back, asking why, explaining that I worked best alone, and really, Joan should know why by now. She was there when I first started working for Smith and Company. An Iraq War veteran blinded by a terrorist explosion garnered a lot of interest. Unfortunately, for me at least, that kind of attention came in the form of those who were friends that I found out were truly jerks, and women who wanted to make it all better. I couldn't take the superficiality of it all and asked to work from home.

My parents took me in after my discharge, but as a grown man, I needed my privacy and space. Even in a house as large as ours, I know, it's hard to get privacy. They agreed and built this place for me. Still on the estate, but I was on my own. I was able to work and think, and when I felt the need for socialization, hooked into the internet.

It was how I liked it, but given the sound of what seemed to be kitten heels across my hardwood, what I wanted wasn't relevant anymore. She kept shouting out, in a lilting feminine voice, and I shook my head. I already said "In here." Did she think I'd moved?

Finally, she reached my office and introduced herself. Yeah, I knew who she was, and she knew who I was. Now that all that was over and done with, I turned around, but once she saw that I couldn't see, the reason why I worked by myself smacked me in the face.

I huffed and told her the project information was on the printer, if she wanted to look at it. Personally, I didn't bother reading it. The more I put it off, the more I could pretend that the next few months weren't going to happen.

But happening, they were as I took a deep breath and smelled more than what was normal in my office. This Anne person wore perfume, and taking another breath, I caught notes of a citrus blend. Not that she put on too much, of course. My other senses – mainly smell and hearing – seemed to double their capacity since Iraq. The heels, the perfume. And now the rustle of fabric as I heard her sit down reading through the project report.

A little voice in the recesses of my mind wondered what she was wearing, but another sent up memories of other women who smelled nice and felt good. I soon found out, though, that those interested in me weren't the type of women I'd normally be attracted to. I gave up.

"So, umm, Mr. Anderson, do what do you say we get started here?"

I chuckled at the title she gave me. "Mr. Anderson?"

"What would you like me to call you, then?" she asked.

"Auggie, I guess," I said with a shrug. "So, what's the report say?"

"Haven't you gone over it already?"

I sank back in my chair and shook my head. She sighed. An honest-to-goodness sigh, full of emotion and, it seemed, annoyance. Next came the scrape of a chair coming closer.

"Do you have a problem working with a woman, or is it just me?" she asked.

"What?"

"I've met men like you before, absolute geniuses who refuse to work with anyone with IQ lower than 200. About 25% of you also have a problem partnering with women, which I can debate for a good half hour, if should you be up for it."

"Huh?" For some reason, I was completely unable to form sentences around this woman, and I had half a chuckle to myself that I'd probably be able to converse if we were texting each other.

"Do you have a problem working with me?" she asked again, slower and with a deliberateness that bordered on patronizing.

"I don't know what you're talking about. We just met."

"So what's with the less-than-warm reception here?"

We were getting pretty much nowhere with this conversation, so I shook my head and waved away her question and picked up the Braille printout of our project report. My fingers slid effortlessly across the raised-dot paper.

Anne stayed quiet, thankfully, as I read. The parameters seemed normal enough. Smith and Company was private sector, but a good chunk of their work came from the government. We provided detailed analyses with what was given us and gave it back. Sometimes I wondered about what I did, and exactly what the government did with it, but there was no way to find out. We were simply a middle man, and the need-to-know never dipped far enough for us to find out.

Actually, I'd wondered what this project was, that it needed a second person, but halfway through, I found out. Some of the information provided to us wasn't in English. I knew some Arabic, only because of the time I spent in Iraq. Russian, however, I had no knowledge of.

"So you speak Russian, huh?" I asked.

"Yes, among others. Need to see my resume?"

"Why would I need to see your resume?" I asked, perplexed at her sudden change in demeanor.

"Because you don't seem to want me here."

Wow, was she perceptive, but only partly so. I didn't want her or anyone else here 'cause I'd gotten used to being alone. "I already told you, I prefer to work alone, but unless you want me to run these Russian documents through Babelfish –"

Her scoff nearly made me smile, though realistically, I'd think that was a decent idea. "Then I guess we're stuck here for the duration. You can set up anywhere you want," I said, waving around the room. Though my main desk I sat at now held all the equipment I needed, the walls were lined with tables and chairs for when I needed to do other things.

The couch stuck out, but it was necessary 'cause I'd sometimes work myself into exhaustion, and it was closer than the bedroom.

Her chair scraped again, and by the sounds of her settling in and a zip opening, I figured she took the table right next to me. Huh. Given our less-than-fun conversation, I figure she'd be as far away from me as possible.

* * *

A few hours later, my alarm beeped, making me jump a little, as it always did when I was deep into my work. It became necessary after I'd find myself working nearly a whole day without eating.

But I'd failed to tell Ms. Walker about it, and she emitted a tiny shriek beside me at the sound, causing me to jump again.

"Sorry," I mumbled. "I usually each lunch now."

"Sorry for screeching like a little girl."

Another little half-laugh nearly came out of me, but I let it go and stood to head to my kitchen. Halfway there, it dawned on me that she might be hungry, too. Should I offer her something? Did she bring her own lunch? What the hell was I required to do in this kind of situation?

"So, what are you going to make us?" she asked, walking up beside me.

My smile came out then, along with a true half-laugh, and I tilted my head in the direction of the kitchen.

* * *

**A/N So, is it that this story is a bit out there, in terms of AU and OOC? Or is it the holiday? Either way, thanks to everyone who's reviewed and alerted so far. Just used to more response than this for a new story. Ah well.**

**Please review.**

**BTW, as you can see, Auggie's not an angry version of himself. He's just a recluse, kind of a hermit. His full story will come out in other chapters. I'm sure you all know my style by now. Happily Ever Afters are a given.**


	3. Chapter 3

It may have seemed to Mr. Anderson, sorry, Auggie, that I was working right alongside him all morning, but I wasn't. The first thing I did after setting up my laptop was send off an e-mail to Joan Campbell, asking her why I wasn't given a full briefing about this mission, including Auggie's status.

While I waited for a response, I silently took in the surroundings and the man sitting next to me. Traveling all over the globe provided me with a lot of experience in others' homes and businesses, but this was something else: a cloistered tech genius surrounded by wealth and privilege. It was never my place to pass judgment on my co-workers. That's just bad form, but something drew me to this man.

I was still kicking myself for my initial reaction when I saw he couldn't see. And then getting all huffy with him? Geez, way to make an impression, Walker, I chided myself. Perhaps I'd used my friendly demeanor and wide smile too often in the past and was used to even the most antisocial person becoming at ease when I introduced myself.

Obviously I can't do that now, and since he didn't want anyone to be there, namely me, I was kind of at a loss at how to act. About a half hour after sending Joan the e-mail, she responded back. Not in a helpful way, either.

She wrote that August Anderson was a highly respected associate of Smith and Company, and she'd hold me personally responsible for ticking him off in any way. As to why I wasn't told he was blind, she told me that that information bordered on personal information and shouldn't have any effect on our project.

So, I thought, suck it up and get on with your work. I'm sure she meant well, but Joan Campbell had a kind of "do your work, or else" attitude. She didn't have to spend weeks or months with men and women in their own homes or workplaces, I thought. But she was right. I was sent here to do a job, and if I concentrated on that, maybe the personal connection – acquaintances, at least – would come later.

Auggie seemed to know what he was doing, and I knew what I had to do, so I downloaded the workload and began to get on with it.

We worked together in silence for the next couple of hours. Halfway through, the thought dawned on me that we worked well like this. Without argument or hassle, we worked together, sliding files back and forth.

I was deep into a translation when a loud beep startled me so that I jumped and an involuntary squeak emitted from my throat. Immediately, I looked over to Auggie, who looked just a bit admonished.

He apologized for scaring me, and I also said sorry for squealing like a little girl. He nearly smiled, which gave my heart a second little jump. His good looks came out of hiding when a frown or scowl wasn't wrinkling his forehead. I wondered if I could make it permanent.

He started walking out of the room, and since I didn't bring anything with me for lunch, I joined him and asked what he was making us. Presumptuous, for sure, but his smile came out again, and he inclined his head down the hallway.

A dozen questions came to mind again, but Joan's chiding at my intrusion into his personal life kept my mouth shut. I decided to do just that. I'd take my cues from Auggie and hope that he warmed up to me and let me in just a little.

As we walked into his kitchen, I managed to keep my throat silent, but my mouth dropped open. I never cooked, as my travels kept my time in the kitchen to a minimum, but I knew a sweet setup when I saw it.

He went directly to the refrigerator, so I sat on one of the stools at the island counter. The granite shone, and I ran my hand across the cool surface.

"You okay with a sandwich?" he asked.

"Whatever you're having is fine with me," I replied.

His head tilted again, but this time, the smile didn't accompany it. "You'll get whiplash playing on both sides of the teeter-totter."

"Huh?"

"Three hours ago, you were accusing me of being misogynistic, now you'll take whatever I give you?"

I wasn't quite sure how to respond to that, but he stood there, looking in my direction, and I knew he expected an answer. Okay, Walker, you can either suck up and lie or clear the air and tell the truth. The latter won out, 'cause lying seemed wrong.

"Auggie, I apologize for my behavior when I first arrived."

He placed the items he pulled from the refrigerator on the counter, then leaned on it with an expectant air.

"Not that it's an excuse, but no one told me that you were blind, and I was kind of taken aback."

His mouth twisted into something of a scowl, but I kept on talking.

"Truthfully, I guess I'm used to winning people over with my smile and kindness, and really, I'm a nice person, but –"

"But?"

Geez, it was like pulling teeth with this guy. "I said I was sorry, Auggie."

"So you're saying you would have acted differently had you known I was blind," he said while he pulled out slices of bread and began assembling the sandwiches.

"Well, I wouldn't have put my hand out and automatically assumed you'd know it was there for you to shake," I replied. "And I wouldn't have gasped when you looked at me. God, I'm really pathetic, aren't I?"

"Maybe a little. It's nothing I haven't encountered before, so don't beat yourself up about it."

He said that with such resignation and regret, a small twinge twisted my heart. He looked to be in his late 20s, and his body spoke of someone that didn't spend 24 hours a day behind a desk. With all his obvious breeding and privilege that surrounded us, what the hell happened that caused him to retreat back in his life like this?

"Do you want mustard or mayo?"

"Mustard, please."

A minute later, he placed two plates on the counter topped with sandwiches that looked delectable. My nervousness at coming to a new job plus wanting to make sure I wasn't late getting here had me only having a large cup of coffee to go.

He sat on the remaining stool, and out of good manners, I waited until he took his first bite before diving into my own. It may have looked simple, but the mix of cold cuts coupled with crisp lettuce and the freshest tomato I'd ever tasted had me moaning after the first bite.

So focused on eating every scrap of that sandwich, I didn't notice that Auggie had stopped eating his and was staring in my direction with something of a perplexed and amused look on his face.

I swallowed carefully and said, "What's wrong?"

"Are you okay?"

"Yes, of course I am," I answered with a laugh. "This is just really good."

"Okay. For a second there, I thought I'd have to apply the Heimlich maneuver."

I laughed, but still felt a bit mortified at my actions.

"At least you're not one of those girls who only eats salads," he said, diving back into his own lunch.

"God, no," I said. "One of the reasons I love traveling is the food."

I then began telling him about all of my favorite places I'd gotten to visit, both on my own and traveling with the company. I had no idea if he had traveled anywhere in his life, but hoped that he'd return the favor and open up a little, as well.

Maybe tomorrow, though, 'cause soon both of our plates were empty and glasses of iced tea were drunk. I moved to clear our "table," but he was faster and took the plates and glasses to the sink, rinsing them out before he opened the dishwasher and placed them inside.

"Ready to get back at it?"

"Of course," I said, a sigh of relief escaping my lips as the tension from the morning seemed to have dissipated. Though the past half hour raised more questions about Auggie Anderson than given me answers about him, I felt up to the challenge of cracking whatever shell he'd built around himself, if only for the next few months.

* * *

**A/N Thanks for all the sweet reviews and alerts! I know this is completely different from my past writing, but after 50-some stories, I gotta keep challenging myself.**

**Hope everyone (in the US, at least) enjoys tomorrow night's new season starting. It's been a long year's wait. Remember, no hints or spoilers in reviews. :)**

**Please leave a word.**


	4. Chapter 4

It'd been a while since I'd been out on a date, but this bordered on what it was like the last time. Slightly awkward, with the woman talking while we ate. At least Anne's commentary was interesting. I'd traveled with the Army enough myself, but my trips paled in comparison to hers.

But it almost seemed like she was trying too hard, wanting to make up and apologize for her "earlier behavior." No matter how many times I told her it's no problem, nothing I hadn't heard before, she kept pushing and talking. I had to admit, though, she had a nice voice. Not too high –pitched, not whispery. She almost had enough vitality to make up for my lack of it.

Soon enough, the half-hour I usually allocated for my lunch was over, and I gathered the dishes and headed back to the office. But if lunches and maybe dinners were going to be a two-person deal, I'd have to increase my food budget.

"Hey," I said, as we sat back down. "Send me an e-mail of whatever food you prefer to eat."

"No, it's okay, you don't have to go out of your way to feed me."

My back teeth set on edge, and I had half a mind to scream out. But I swallowed down my initial burst of anger and took a deep breath. "There are no restaurants within 10 miles of here, and unless you'll plan on brown bagging it, I'll need to buy more food."

"Oh, well, when you put it that way, it makes sense."

"I know it does. If you're worried about the cost, I'll expense it to the company."

"No, not the cost, just don't want to put you out."

And there was the awkwardness again. Despite the load of work I know was waiting for us, I knew something had to be done, or else we'd be spending months tiptoeing around each other. I didn't want to, really, I didn't. It'd been years since I'd met anyone who needed to know about my life.

I turned my office chair until it faced her and began to speak.

"I can't tell you all the details, but several years back, I was in the Army in the Middle East. A bomb exploded that killed half of my team and injured the rest, including me. I was discharged, and Smith and Company offered me a job. I worked in DC for a year, but –" I hesitated before continuing. "I guess you could say the transition wasn't working out for anybody, really, so I got the okay to work from home."

She was silent, weirdly, considering how chatty she was earlier. Maybe it was a bad idea to open up like that.

"Okay. I'm sorry?"

"Excuse me?"

"I'm sorry you had to go through that. I had no idea, or else –"

"Or else what?" I interrupted. "You would have acted even more awkwardly than you have all day? Or maybe you would have offered to make it all better, like I'm some sort of a charity case?"

I swung my chair back around to my desk. I knew it was a bad idea to try to mend fences with this woman. My instincts hadn't steered me wrong yet, and the one time I try to be nice, this is what happened. I'd just pulled up my e-mail to send a letter to Joan saying this wasn't going to work out when my chair was pulled around, taking me with it.

"Hey!"

"Hey yourself, Mr. Auggie Anderson. Before you start diving back into that ball of self-pity you call a life, you will listen to me. Yeah, I am sorry you had such a crappy life, but it's not out of pity. My father was career Army, which made me an Army brat. We moved from base to base all over the world, and it's what fostered my love for traveling and learning languages. When I was away in university, he died. I still don't know the details, but I miss him every single day of my life."

My mouth dropped open at her confession, but she wasn't done.

"Now, I have a feeling you're leaving out a lot in that little diatribe of yours, but it doesn't give you the right to just push away everybody who tries to be nice to you."

My chair – and myself – was then turned back around to my desk, and I had to throw out my hands to stop from crashing into the desk. What the hell just happened? I hadn't been talked to like that since – well, I couldn't remember since, really. Geez, all I wanted to do was clear the air, maybe come to some type of working relationship with this woman, but how did it backfire?

I couldn't think of one thing to say, and suddenly the e-mail to Joan opting out of this assignment seemed kind of petty. I shut it down and silently settled back into my work. She did, as well, and not a word was spoken for about an hour.

Then my e-mail pinged, and when I opened it, I saw it was from Annie.

"Auggie, Please forgive me for my outburst. I'm usually not such a bitch, believe me. It's just, sometimes the memories come up when I least expect them. I like all kinds of food, but I am partial to pizza."

That last line made me smile, which I have to admit felt weird on my face. I was about to turn in my chair and accept her apology and offer one of my own, but instead I hit the "reply" button. For the past few years, my socialization had always been online. Kind of sad, but hey, at this moment, I figure it was best to go with my strengths.

"Annie, no forgiveness necessary. You don't deserve the pent-up frustrations I've built over the past several years. We're going to be working together for a while now, and though I'm a bit rusty at it, maybe we could be friends? About the food, maybe we could save the pizza for Fridays? Celebrate a successful workweek?"

A few minutes after I sent it off, I felt her hand touch the back of mine and squeeze. An unspoken truce, it seemed, and I was somewhat grateful for it. Though Annie's presence may have been unwanted, I wasn't completely antisocial. At least I hoped I hadn't fallen that far.

* * *

**A/N Hello to everyone, new and trusty readers! Not sure how I feel about the new direction of the show, given season premiere last night. No spoilers here, if you haven't seen it yet. But suffice to say, it's gonna be weird trying to write to canon anymore.**

**Please review.**


	5. Chapter 5

Suffice to say, my production rate plummeted the rest of the afternoon. It seemed all progress made during lunch cleared out with his – and mine – rant. So here I was, Anne Walker, bubbly, vivacious, couldn't make an enemy if I tried, stuck for months with a man stuck deep inside a self-imposed depression and exile.

My e-mail apology to him was something of a peace offering, but his response had me wondering. He couldn't be much older than me. I doubt he'd hit 30 yet, but he had no friends? What the hell was going on? His short explanation provided some answers, but something else must have happened, probably a lot of something elses to make August Anderson hole himself up here in his gilded cage.

By the time 5pm came, I was no closer to getting any answers, and as he shut down his computer, I packed up my supplies, as well.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Auggie," I said, my voice sounding a tad brighter than it should have been.

"Bye," came the returning grunt as he didn't get up from his desk chair, only turned it to his right and powered up another computer. Huh, I thought. Apparently, he didn't get out much. I'd think about all this tonight and maybe come up with some kind of game plan to get through the next few months.

There had to be some sort of literature about dealing with returning war veterans. You'd think being an Army brat, I'd know all this stuff, but I never got the chance to deal with it. My father came back from the war in a flag-covered box. The only grief we had to deal with was our own.

My head full of thoughts of the past, I'd reached for the front door handle only to have it open, kind of forcefully in front of me. My stilettos had me stumbling backwards, and I only just caught myself from falling on the hardwood floor. As I straightened back up, I was confronted with a woman whose shock on her face, I assumed, mirrored mine.

I probably would have noticed by her strong jawline and warm brown eyes that she was related to Auggie, but her words shoved me further away from rational thought.

"Who the hell are you?" she spat out, stalking across the floor to me, the door slamming behind her. "Who gave you permission to come in here? That's your car out there, right? You should know this is private property, and if you don't have a legitimate reason for being here, I will call the police! August! Where are you?! August! What have you done with him?"

My mouth was opening and closing, I knew, but no words seemed to be forming in my throat, as my mind tried to work around the string of questions hurled my way. The first one seemed easily enough to answer, and I stuttered out, "I – I'm – my name is –"

"August!"

"Shut up, Mother!"

Auggie's voice, lower than a shout, but still intimidating, came from behind me, and I turned to see him walking down the hallway from his office, his features even more full of anger than when I'd first met him.

"There you are! Do you know this person?"

He didn't answer her, only stood there, hands at his waist, and said, "How many times have I told you not to just barge in here?"

"August!"

"Don't 'August' me, Mother."

"It's your name. How else would you like me to refer to you?" she retorted back.

I began to take a few steps back, the negative energy rebounding between these two almost seemed to hit me physically.

"And you haven't answered me. What is this girl doing in here? Surely, you haven't resorted to, you know, professional workers?"

That had me raising my eyebrows, as by her tone, I believe Auggie's mother just called me a prostitute.

"Who she is is none of your business, and you haven't answered me. What are you doing here, and why did you feel the need to just barge in here? This is my private residence."

"On my and your father's land, built with our hands and our –"

"Stop it, Mother, okay? Just stop it."

Jesus, this was getting deep into domestic issues, and I tried to quietly side step my way towards the door again, but Auggie's voice stopped me.

"Annie, wait."

"Annie?" his Mother sneered. I was seriously not liking this woman more and more.

"Yes, Mother, Annie. Annie Walker. She's from Smith and Company, working here. With me."

"What are you talking about? They've never –"

"Well, they have now," Auggie retorted, his hand running over his face. "What's more, she will be here for the next few months, helping me with a project. Now, before you embarrass me or yourself anymore, could you tell me what you're doing here."

They both seemed to run out of steam, and a few deep breaths echoed around the large room. I still was torn between walking out and staying, not finding a good reason to do either. One thing was apparent, though. A good portion of the reason why Auggie was the way he was had to do with the woman standing before me, her hair in a perfect french twist on her head, and her designer suit putting mine to shame.

"I came here," she said, her voice slightly lower than the shriek she'd greeted me with, "Because James informed me you'd had a visitor, and knowing you never had visitors, I thought – well, -"

"Yes, we all heard what you thought my new colleague was," Auggie said, shaking his head. "A simple phone call would have done the job, not to mention save scaring Annie half to death."

"I'm fine –" I started to say, but Auggie shook his head at me.

"Now, are you going to apologize and introduce yourself properly, or am I going to have to do it for you?" he asked, his arms now folding across his chest. I could see now the soldier in him, and I have to say, it was slightly intimidating.

It seemed she didn't want to, but with a huff, she turned back to me. My back straightened automatically in remembrance of her last words to me, but I refused to back down.

"Miss –"

"Walker," Auggie supplied.

"Miss Walker, I apologize for my words earlier. I am Barbara Anderson, August's mother," she said, a strained smile on her face and manicured hand extended.

"Apology accepted," I said, clasping her hand. "My name's Annie Walker. I'm a linguist at Smith and will be working with August for the next few months."

She gripped my hand once and nodded, then released me and took a few steps back. Well, if I was expecting a warm welcome into the family, I guess I'd be disappointed by now. Actually, I was just hoping to get out of this house in one piece.

"Now, Mother, other than trying to save me from myself, is there any other reason you came down here?" Auggie asked, his demeanor relaxing just a bit. Well, at least he didn't look like a drill sergeant anymore.

"Well, umm, yes. You sent an e-mail to James requesting more food be delivered, and I was wondering why, but now I see the reason for it."

"It'll be expensed back to the company, so don't worry about the cost," Auggie said, rolling his eyes. I didn't blame him. It seemed a weak argument to myself, as well, but I didn't have the least bit of knowledge about this family save what I'd learned in the past few minutes. It made me want to go to my sister's house and give her a big hug.

"Okay, well, I'll make sure the order gets placed, and –"

"Good-bye, Mother."

"Good-bye."

And with an echoing click of heels across the hardwood, shutting of the door and a few seconds later, the roar of a vehicle, she was gone.

"Umm, well, I guess I'll be going, too," I said, suddenly wanting a glass of wine – or two – at that very moment. It'd been kind of an eventful day.

"Annie, wait," Auggie said, walking over to me, the anger and frustration in his face sliding away. He suddenly seemed weary and tired.

"Auggie, it's fine."

"No, it's not," he said with half a laugh that curled one side of his mouth. "My mother just called you a hooker."

"Yeah, well, other than that," I said. "But, to be fair, she also accused you of hiring one."

That got a full smile, and I have to say, it kind of did things to me. I really wondered if the man knew how handsome he was.

"Yeah, there's that. I never have. Just, you know, to get that out there."

"Good to know."

"So, has she scared you off completely, or will –"

"Auggie," I said, walking closer to him until I got within a foot. My hand lifted to his arm, just for reassurance, as a clearer picture of his life began to form in my mind. "I'll be back tomorrow. We've got a job to do, and it'll take more than a huffy parent to get me to back down. I'm kinda stubborn that way."

The smile returned, and he said, "Thanks."

"No thanks necessary. It could've been worse."

"How could anything be worse than that?" he asked.

I gave his arm – fully muscled beneath a long-sleeved jersey shirt I noticed – one last squeeze before answering, "It could've been a jealous wife who was wondering why her 70-year-old husband had a pretty blonde coming by to visit every day."

The smile turned into a full-on laugh, and I couldn't help but join in.

"Is that true?"

"Oh, I've been doing this for a few years. I've got stories you wouldn't believe," I said. "Well, it's getting late, and traffic's gonna be a nightmare getting back into the city."

"Okay. See you tomorrow, Annie."

"Bye, Auggie."


	6. Chapter 6

I couldn't quite believe my mother. She never came down here unless it was absolutely necessary, and even then, I couldn't wait until she left. Not only had she invaded my privacy today, she came in screeching like a banshee and insulted both me and Annie.

The only way to shut her up, I learned from my father, was to not respond to her wailing and appeal to her sense of propriety. That did it, but the damage had been done. I thought for sure Annie would've turned tail and ran, but she surprised me, again, and even got me laughing before she'd left.

It was natural, but sounded foreign to my ears. When had I laughed like that last? I don't know, and a few minutes after she'd gone, and I could still smell her soft perfume through the place. For a few minutes, I stood in my office and inhaled deeply. Memories assaulted me of a lifetime ago when Auggie Anderson never wanted for female companionship.

Since sophomore year in high school, I was never without a date on a Friday night. A few were serious, but most weren't. I strove to recall one of their faces, but nothing came to me. Come on, I thought, clenching my fists. Just one face. But nothing came.

With a growl of frustration that befit my entire day, I stomped off to my computer.

* * *

A couple of hours later, I heard James arrive and move around the kitchen – no doubt putting away the groceries I had requested. He was a good man, far above being a butler, and someone I counted on as a true friend who did more for my upbringing than my parents ever could have hoped for.

Before he could leave, though, I shouted out to him. "James, got a minute?"

The large man's footsteps faltered, and then came back through the house. "Anything else you need, August?"

I smiled as I always did at his use of my full name. No one else used it, and he refused to call me anything else. "Yeah, I want to ask you something. Have a seat," I said.

"If this is about your mother, I am sorry I could not waylay her into barging in earlier. You know how Mrs. Anderson gets when she's upset."

"Yeah, I know exactly how my mother gets," I said with a derisive laugh. "Nah, this isn't about that. The woman that came here today, did she come up to the house first?"

"Yes, I directed her back to you."

"Right," I said, then leaned forward, my elbows on my thighs as I struggled for a way to ask what I'd been thinking about all day. My hesitation must've been longer than normal or more obvious than I wanted, though.

"She's beautiful, August."

My head snapped up in frustration, then I laughed a bit, and I could feel my cheeks coloring in embarrassment. "Am I that obvious?"

"I've known you your whole life. Even without your sight, I could read you like a book."

"Wish I could return the favor," I retorted automatically, to which James laughed. He was the only one I could joke with about my blindness. "Other than beautiful, though, you know, what's she look like?"

James was quiet for a few seconds before answering. I'm sure he was sizing up my interest, but I hoped he just answered the question without wondering why I needed to know. 'Cause at this point, I wasn't sure why myself.

"About 5'8", trim figure, slightly curvy with gorgeous legs. Light brown eyes, long, blonde hair, highlighted naturally by the sun. Her face – a mix of intelligence and innocence."

As his words filled in the picture I had in my mind of Anne Walker, I had to swallow hard and remind myself to keep breathing. "So, she's pretty?" I joked.

"Yes, but that was from seeing her for 30 seconds. You've spent the whole day with her, surely your knowledge far exceeds mine."

"Yeah, well, I may not have given the best of first impressions. But she'll be here for few months."

"I'm glad you've found someone to talk with, August," he said, standing and walking over towards me. "You've had a bad time of it lately. Perhaps this Walker woman will help bring out the August I remember."

I shrugged, and as I heard him leave, I turned back to my computer. For years now, it'd been my link to the outside world, but for some reason, it didn't hold my interest tonight. After a few minutes, I let out a huff of frustration and shut it off.

XXX

The next day started much easier than the previous. Anne arrived, and after I offered coffee, which she declined, we settled into work. I'd spent half the night lying in bed, wondering about what the parameters of mine and Anne's relationship would be.

It used to be so much easier in the past, but my lack of socialization lately had me at a disadvantage. Plus, our interactions the day before were so haphazard, I wasn't sure how to proceed.

After an hour, I noticed that she'd sighed a total of three times already. Not a happy-go-lucky sigh, either. It was one that spoke volumes. She wasn't getting bored of me already, was she? Only one way to find out.

"Everything all right, Anne?"

"Annie," came her soft reply.

"Huh?"

"Everybody calls me Annie."

"Oh. Are you all right? I promise, I've banned my mother from the premises, so if you're afraid of her showing up again, don't be."

That got half a laugh, but I could tell something was behind it.

"Just some personal stuff I'm going through."

"Do you – I mean, would you want to talk about it?"

She didn't respond right away, and I took that as a negative. Well, I thought, what'd I expect? I treated her like a leper yesterday, and then, just when I thought things were settled between us, my mother stormed in and accused her of being a prostitute. Maybe my previous thoughts that we could form something past a working relationship was kind of premature.

How desperate was I, huh, to think that the first woman I encountered after my self-imposed exile here would be automatically interested. Old Auggie had all the moves, but new Auggie had something of a jaded view of life, so to speak.

Maybe not, though, 'cause as soon as I gave up and turned back to my work, she started talking.

"I got a phone call last night that kind of rattled me."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, it was, umm, from an ex of mine. Sorry, I really shouldn't bring my home life to work."

"It's okay," I said, trying to push down a sudden surge of jealousy that I didn't quite understand. "You know, the eyes might not work anymore, but it's made me a hell of a listener."

* * *

**Phew. Okay, jumping back into this story. Thanks to all the great input from everyone! With that and my remembered storyline/background, I think I've got a handle on this again.**

**Please review!**


	7. Chapter 7

The drive onto the Anderson estate my second morning didn't fill me with awe as it did yesterday. I tried to put last night's activities out of my head, but every time I tried, his face would just pop up there, smiling and winking.

Even the sight of Auggie's smiling face as I walked into his house didn't dispel the feeling of annoyance and frustration that'd been building up in me over the past 12 hours. I tried not to let it affect me as we dove into our work, but I guess my mood showed, 'cause Auggie turned to me an hour later and asked what was wrong.

"You know, the eyes might not work anymore, but it's made me a hell of a listener."

I felt a bit hesitant, to tell the truth. 24 hours ago, this man was grumbling at my mere presence, and now he's smiling and offering a shoulder to lean on? Maybe he had time to think about our situation at being cooped up for months together and came to realize we could, at least, be friends for now?

I didn't know, but if he was offering, who am I to give up an offer of a listening post? And maybe a male perspective was just what I needed. Danielle, my sister, automatically takes my side no matter what.

"Okay," I said, turning my chair to face him. He did the same, making me smile.

"A few years ago, between university and getting this job, I was traveling. You know, one last fling before settling into adult life. Well, I met this guy, Ben, in Sri Lanka. It was – well, you don't need the details, but we spent a few weeks together, started making plans for the future. I really thought he was the one, but –"

Here, my voice dropped off, as what always happens when I thought back to that time. Sometimes it was easier to just stop the memories there, and not allow the rest to play out.

"But?" Auggie prompted, pulling me out of my reverie.

"He left one morning, no notice, nothing. It was kind of rough for a while after, but I picked myself up, finished my travels and came home. Well, that's the background, but last night, I received a call. Don't know how he got my cell number, but he called. Said he was in town and wanted to grab a drink together."

My story finished, I sat and waited for Auggie's reaction. Sure, it wasn't all that earth-shattering of a story, but he had asked me what was wrong.

"So, what'd he say when you told him where he could stick his drink?" Auggie asked.

A snort of a laugh came out of me at that, and I covered my mouth in embarrassment. "I don't know. I said I'd think about it and send him a text today."

"You had to think about it? Dump his ass, problem solved," Auggie said with a shrug and turned back to his computer.

"What? That's it?"

"You said he dumped you years ago, without any kind of a good-bye?"

"Well, yeah, but –"

My hesitation must've lit the annoyance flame in Auggie again, because he huffed and said, "Annie, any guy who'd treat someone as beautiful and accomplished and sweet as you like a fling doesn't deserve a second chance. You asked for my opinion, and that's it."

Yeah, that's pretty much what I'd been thinking since the phone call, despite my mind plaguing me with reruns of our weeks together, but Auggie's words kind of pushed all my doubts out of my head and left me with a couple of different ideas.

"What makes you say I'm beautiful?" I asked.

He froze at that, and his hands left the keyboard to drop into his lap. His head fell a bit, too, with his chin dipping into his chest.

"Auggie?"

"James."

"Who is –"

"He's our butler, but he's more of a big brother to me, more of a father than my own was."

"Oh, okay, but –"

Again, he interrupted me, his head never rising, and I couldn't make out his features. "Don't get freaked or anything, but I asked him yesterday what you looked like."

"Oh, so he's that big, imposing guy that answered the door yesterday?" I asked.

Auggie nodded.

He still didn't say anything or raise his head, and I figured it'd be best to let the topic rest before he retreated back into himself even further. "Okay. Well, you're right, of course. I mean, about Ben. He doesn't deserve a second chance."

I let the topic stop there, and swung my chair back around. When he saw that I wasn't going to press what he'd talked about with James, his head raised, and he took a deep breath before reaching for his computer again.

"Good, you shouldn't live in the past like that," he said with a shake of his head. "Gotta keep moving forward."

"Mm-hmm," I replied, wondering if I should make a comment about him taking a bit of his own advice. But given the way he reacted yesterday, I decided to let it go. We really had only known each other for 24 hours.

For the rest of the day, though, his observation that he thought I was "beautiful, accomplished, and sweet" served to brighten my mood. It also allowed me to make a decision regarding Ben's invitation. He sounded so contrite and apologetic that truthfully, I was wavering on accepting the drink, if only to ask him what the hell happened. But the time for apologies and my accepting one, no matter what it was, had come and gone.

Before I started second-guessing myself, I sent off a quick text to him declining the offer. And, before stowing the phone, I shut the ringer off. No need allowing him to feature in my day any further.

* * *

The rest of the week passed smoothly, as Auggie and I settled into something of a companionable working rhythm. He no longer grumbled at my presence, and I tried to keep my personal life out of the "office." Our lunches together became about the only time we talked about things other than work.

Having spilled more about my life to him the first two days, I endeavored to pull more out of him. I learned he was an only child of wealthy parents, but never let his status of being rich affect the way he treated others or let others treat him. He genius got him into computers, and his natural athletic ability caught the eyes of his Army superiors.

It was as far as he talked about his past life, save working for our company now. I came to assume his blindness occurred in between the two situations, but asking about it didn't appeal to me, and it didn't look like he would be telling any time soon, either.

When Friday afternoon came, I felt almost sad that we'd be apart for two whole days. Which was weird, 'cause I loved my weekends. I wondered…

"Hey, Auggie," I ventured about an hour before quitting time, "What do you usually get up to on the weekends?"

"Depends. Why do you ask?"

"No reason," I said. "It's just, my sister usually feels bad for me being alone and tries to pull me into whatever she and her family's got planned."

"Okay?"

"So, I was wondering if you'd like to join me for some shopping," I said as nonchalantly as I didn't feel.

"Shopping? Like at a mall?" he asked, and I almost laughed at the look of horror on his face.

"No, no. There's this great farmer's market I go to. They've got food and crafts, and sometimes live music. It's more like a fair or bazaar, to tell you the truth."

"Wow, umm, I don't know. I mean –"

Damn, I thought. Pushing too hard again, and I probably scared the guy off. "You don't have to. It's just –"

"I know I don't have to, but, I mean, all my stuff gets delivered, and I haven't had to go out shopping for years."

"Oh, right. Guess James takes care of all your needs," I said.

"Not all of them," he said with half a laugh, and then before I could decipher what he meant, he added, "I'd love to go."

* * *

**A/N Well, what do you think? :) I'm loving all of the feedback you guys are giving! As for the nameless "Guest" reviewer, loved your ideas! I'm dying to do a canon story to expound on the season finale (which i'm still in shock from, a week later).**

**Please review!**


	8. Chapter 8

I held it together while Annie was here, but when the front door shut behind her, the full-on anxiety attack that'd been building since her invitation came to fruition.

I had to sit quietly and breathe deeply for a good half-hour until my body and brain calmed down. It wasn't a date. It wasn't a hook-up. I hadn't even known Annie a week. She was just looking for company while she went shopping., that's all.

Times like these, I wished I had siblings I could talk to, or even parents that'd be willing to talk about my feeligns without bringing the conversation back on themselves. James, unfortunately, had Friday nights off, or else I'd ask him to come down.

A ding from my personal computer drew my attention. By this time, I'd be logged into my normal social sites. Oh, wait, maybe they'd be able to help me. I hurried over and sent out a request.

Need to talk to somebody.

My phone rang in a couple of minutes, and I hurriedly grabbed for it, seeing that a fellow techie, Stu, had been online and answered my plea for help.

"Hello?"

"Aug, what's up?"

"Stu, buddy, I need to talk to somebody," I said, dropping down onto my couch.

"I'm here. Spill it."

"I got a date. For tomorrow. I don't know what to do."

"Holy crap, Auggie. How'd that happen? You never leave your house."

Despite my mood, I had to laugh at that one. "She's working with me. Company assigned her to come here every day, working out of my house for a few months. I just met her Monday."

"And you asked her out already? Don't know whether I should say congratulations or advise you to call your doctor 'cause you've obviously been taken over by a Pod Person."

Again, I laughed, easing my anxiety even further. Though I'd never met the man, Stu and I got along just fine. For one, I doubt anyone at the company would have gotten his joke. I wonder if Annie would?

"No, no," I said hastily. "I didn't do anything except say yes. She asked me."

"Huh. That's pretty cool."

"She is pretty cool. I mean, I still prefer working alone and living alone, but weirdly enough, I don't mind her being here."

The line went silent, and I wasn't sure if our connection got lost, or he hung up on me or –

"Stu? You still there?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm here. You kind of threw me here, you know."

I scoffed. "You're thrown? God, Stu, I'm a grown man. I've had girlfriends before, but it seems like a lifetime ago. What the hell do I do?"

* * *

I'd talked to Stu a good hour last night, but he was pretty much like me, a computer expert more at home with himself than in a crowd. We commiserated and ended the phone call with me promising to give him all the details afterwards.

I don't know what he expects to hear. After thinking about it through my normal end-of-day routine, I realized that she probably asked me to go with her out of some kind of pity or sympathy. Not the "poor little baby, let me make it all better" sympathy I'd gotten from women after being blinded. No, over the past week, save our first day together, Annie's treated me with kindness, respect, and genuine niceness. The few years I'd been holed up here in my personal cave has apparently jaded me to those kinds of people.

Well, that and having parents that didn't know their title also acted as a verb on occasion.

Nevertheless, here I was, sitting in my living room waiting for Annie to arrive to go shopping. My normal Saturday routine got pushed to Friday night and this morning, and then I stood in my closet wondering what the hell I should wear. Even when I had my sight, I'd never been to a Farmer's Market. I assumed by the title it was just an outdoor grocery store, but Annie had mentioned food and crafts and music, hadn't she?

The weather was nice, so I opted just for what I normally wore, a t-shirt, jeans, comfortable shoes, and I tossed a light jacket over everything. If Annie made a comment about it, there shouldn't be a problem with changing before we left.

A knock resounded from the front door, so I hit the remote to open it and stood. "Annie?"

"You'd better hope so," she responded. "What if I were a robber or someone bent on doing you harm?"

The teasing note in her voice made me smile. "Never heard of a robber yet who knocked first."

"Hmm, if you say so."

"I wasn't sure what to wear," I said, grabbing up my jacket and barely used cane. "And the weather report called for temps in the 70s with passing clouds and only a 10% chance of rain showers. I thought I'd bring a jacket, just the same, if we're gonna be out in the open. Is the ground paved or gravel? I wore sneakers, but I've got some hiking boots with a stronger heel that'd be better to navigate with."

The soft tread of something other than heels came towards me, and I felt her hand come up to my shoulder. "Auggie, you look fine. I'm wearing the same thing, and the place is paved, so you shouldn't have any problems."

"Are you sure?" I asked, trying to swallow down the nervousness I'd been experiencing for almost a full day.

"Yeah, I am," she replied, cupping her hand on my jaw, which I involuntarily leaned into before it was suddenly gone. "So if you're ready, let's blow this joint."

"Okay," I said.

We'd gotten to the front door and through it. It locked automatically, and I extended the cane out in front of me, waiting for her to take my arm. It never came. "Annie?"

"Yeah?"

Damn it, I thought. Not even a few steps out in the big, wide open, and we'd already hit a roadblock. "Give me a hand?" I asked, biting back the words even as I said them.

My anxiety through last night to this morning had me replaying possible scenarios that might happen today. This, however, wasn't one of them. Annie had been so accommodating of my blindness, making me feel, save our first meeting, like I was normal again, I'd forgotten that she'd pretty much have to act as my nursemaid.

"Sure," she said, and I felt her grab my hand and start walking again.

"Whoa, wait," I said, stumbling a couple of steps behind her. Once our momentum had stopped, I continued, "Could I just hold onto your arm as we walk? The cane'll do the rest."

"Oh, of course. Didn't realize there was a protocol to all this. You'll have to teach me all your secrets."

Her lighthearted tone and what I took as a smile behind her words eased my anxiety again, and as we moved down the path to where she parked, I felt as if I was stepping off into some kind of unknown reality that, at the same time, was very familiar.

The windows were open as we drove off, and the wind blowing across my face and ruffling my hair took me back to my life years ago. The reasons I'd sequestered myself were many and very real, but at the moment, I couldn't think of one of them.

* * *

**A/N You know me, any reason to bring Stu back. :) Hope I've portrayed Auggie with just the right amount of excitement and anxiety. **

**Please Review.**


	9. Chapter 9

I have to say, spending the day with a good-looking man on my arm was…interesting. Not to sound conceited, but I was used to it being the other way around. This, however, was proving to be fun.

Given Auggie's obvious nervousness when we first left, I was sure he'd make me take him back home after 15 minutes of walking through the Farm Market crowds, but no. After a few hours, here we still were, picking apples.

Or, at least, he was.

I'd thought his precise nature and almost OCD qualities I'd witnessed over the past week had to deal simply with needing to know where everything was so he could find it later, or not trip over it. Nope.

"Auggie," I leaned in to whisper to him. "The seller is giving us dirty looks."

He hesitated in his careful inspection of the red delicious apple, his eyebrows knitting together just a bit. "Why?" he asked, before replacing the apple and picking up another.

"Because you're fingering all of her produce," I replied with chuckle.

He shrugged and said, "Well, how else am I supposed to tell if it's fresh and unbruised?"

He had a point, I thought, so on his behalf, I returned the glare of the lady behind the counter, her auburn hair frizzing in the humidity. "Thank you for being so accommodating to my friend here," I said, with just the right mix of sarcasm and sincerity to get the point across.

She got the hint, and the glare disappeared, to be replaced by a slightly chagrined look. "No problem," she murmured, before hurriedly reaching for a canvas produce bag on the table behind her and thrusting it at me. "On the house."

"Thanks," I said. "Here, Auggie, you can put your stuff in here."

He'd apparently heard the conversation between myself and the fruit lady, as he was grinning. "Subtle, Annie. Very subtle."

"I thought so," I said, plucking the perfectly formed apple out of his hand and tossing it in the bag. A few minutes later, he'd apparently gotten the perfect selection, and we found the fruit lady to pay for his purchases.

I stood back, a smirk on my face, as Auggie took his wallet out and took out a $10 to pay for his apples and other produce.

"Keep the change," he said with a wide smile, and I swear, I saw the formerly glaring frizzy-haired lady transform from an overall-clad middle-aged woman to a blushing teenager.

"Th-Thanks," she'd replied.

I offered up my arm for him to grab and waited until we were a few steps away before saying, "I'm beginning to suspect that your cloistered, homebound, geeky persona is just a cover, you know."

"Huh?" he asked,

"Auggie, you made that woman blush probably for the first time in 30 years just by smiling at her."

"Yeah, right," he scoffed.

He shook his head, and I could tell he really didn't believe me. "You really have no idea how good-looking you are, do you?" I asked.

"Now whose turn is it to blush?" he mumbled, and by the hard set of his jaw, I had a feeling that I'd either touched a nerve or crossed some sort of line.

Great, I thought. Back to saying the wrong thing and resulting total silence for hours. This would never do, I thought. "Sorry, Auggie," I said, deciding to nip this slight misunderstanding in the bud.

"No apology necessary," he replied.

Okay, then. Maybe it was time to change the subject, or at least the venue. We'd been here for about half a day, already, and been around to all the vendors. Usually I'd just hit a few and hit the road, but Auggie was having so much fun, who was I to cut short his first day out in years?

We'd already visited every stall, listened to music, eaten lunch, and picked up our produce. I was glancing around to see if there was any other we'd missed when Auggie pulled on my arm, bringing us to a stop.

"What is it?" I asked.

"Do you hear that?" he asked, his head craning to the side.

It took me a few seconds to figure out what he was talking about, but following the turn of his head to the sounds around us, I realized what he was listening to.

"Wind chimes," he said, with a smile.

"Oh, yeah," I said, spotting the stall across the way that we must've missed. "Want to go check it out?"

He nodded, and we made our way through the few people walking around to the booth. The stall was set up with all of the wind chimes hanging around, so I steered Auggie toward them.

I found I didn't have to describe anything to him, as the slight summer breeze made each one sing. And now, surrounded by them, it almost seemed as if I were at some sort of New Age concert.

Auggie stepped away from my arm and made his way along the chimes, his hands touching each one. As his fingers felt the shape of the ornaments on the lines, they gave off a musical tinkle.

I wondered if he was looking for something specific, or just enjoying the music he was creating. Interesting that, in working side-by-side for a week now, the subject of what music he preferred never came up. I made a mental note to ask him about it later.

The vendor, thankfully, wasn't as grumpy as the fruit lady. If anything, he seemed to enjoy the music Auggie was creating, and shot me a smile when I glanced over at him.

Finally, I thought, we'd found a vendor who didn't keep Auggie in their sights, thinking his hands-on approach to shopping wasn't a precursor to shoplifting. I just stood back and allowed Auggie a few minutes of obvious joy.

After a few minutes, he seemed to be done, but it surprised me when he'd returned to a couple and, with careful handling, removed them from their hooks and turned around.

"Excuse me?"

"Yes, sir," the vendor said.

"I'd like to purchase these, please."

My mouth simultaneously dropped open and smiled at his decision. All throughout the day, I'd wondered when he'd revert back into cloistered Auggie, but it seemed to me now that I was seeing the true Auggie, the man he'd been before his eyesight was lost.

After each wind chime was wrapped gently in tissue paper and individually bagged, Auggie turned back to me. "Ready to go now?" I asked.

He nodded and handed one of the bags to me.

"This is for you," he said, as we linked arm-to-hand again and walked away.

I took the bag, but was a bit perplexed. "You bought one for me?"

"Yeah, you don't mind, do you?" he asked.

"Of course not. They were all beautiful," I said. Looking through the packaging, I could see that it was the one that was curled copper wire and seashells strung between. "Auggie, this is gorgeous."

"Thanks. It kind of reminded me of you," he said, his voice dropping down to almost a whisper, but I caught every word.

I wanted to ask him why it did, or why he even wanted to buy me something, but the words died on my lips. Throughout the day, I'd gotten a glimpse of the man I surmised Auggie Anderson had been once, and was, still, after all. Charming, intuitive, flirty.

I'd made a comment about heading back, and he agreed, so we made our way to my car, my mind buzzing with thoughts of the man whose hand gripped my upper arm. Initial suppositions about the geek who had rich parents had dissolved slowly over the past week, and today I was left with the picture of a man who was intelligent and handsome and was really nothing like anyone I'd ever met before.

It'd probably take me until Monday morning to decipher all of these warring feelings and wonder what to do with them. For now, I'd just go with the flow and fall back on my old standby of following Auggie's lead so as not to completely make a fool of myself.

* * *

**A/N Well, whaddya know, a new chapter of In the Cave? You probably all know that I hate to leave a story unfinished. Hope y'all liked their day out.**

**I've got a few ideas of the future of this story, and once I'm done, I think I'll move onto something else.**

**PLEASE REVIEW. It's a well-hidden fact that the more reviews an author receives, the faster new chapters come! One caveat, though. Reviews must be heartfelt and not just a request to keep writing. Yeah, we will always keep writing. That's kinda a given. LOL But WHAT the next chapters are about are directly correlated to the context of your review. Just think about that. :) **


	10. Chapter 10

All during the drive home, I was thinking.

Thinking about, what was so difficult with what just happened over the past few hours that I hadn't wanted to do it for the past few years? The noise of music and people was jarring at first, but they were all strangers to me. I had to endure no comments about my blindness or cane or anything.

The reason why came about halfway home. Annie's soothing presence made all the difference, apparently. The fact, simple as it was, startled me so much that I must have audibly gasped, 'cause Annie turned down the radio.

"You okay, Auggie?"

"Yeah," I said, smiling softly to cover my thoughts.

It must have fooled her to believe nothing was wrong, as she turned the radio back up and began humming along with the music. It allowed me back into my thoughts. I'd always lived my life by rules and protocols, knowing what to do and how to get it done. It served me well through school, in sports, in the armed services.

So, why this sudden epiphany and answer to my self-imposed cloister? By the time she'd pulled up to my place, I'd worked through part of the problem, but had a feeling that it'd take the rest of the weekend to fully define and decipher what'd happened to me and my life the past six days.

"Well, here we are," Annie said. "Need help getting all your stuff in?"

"No, I think I've got it," I said, picking up the canvas bag of produce and the couple other bags of goods I'd purchased. "Thank you, Annie, for doing this for me."

"Oh, it's no problem. I had fun," she said, and then, to my surprise and delight, I felt and heard her lean across to me, and then the brush of lips across my cheek.

"Me, too," I murmured before retreating back into my place.

XXX

Monday morning, Annie arrived promptly. I'd left the door open for her, so she could come in without having to knock. Which was probably a good thing, 'cause my mood that morning was less than accommodating.

"Good morning, Auggie," she said.

"Hey," I replied. My conscious berated me for not replying more warmly, but the unannounced visit from my father last night still weighed on my mind.

Whether or not Annie noted my subdued nature or not, I didn't know. I figured a few hours of work would at least put my mind off of family troubles. It always did in the past.

An hour into our work, though, I was pulled from my intense concentration by Annie's voice and her hand on my arm. I slightly jerked, just 'cause I hadn't heard her move closer.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, sure," I said. "Why?"

Again, my conscious piped up that she wasn't the one that pissed me off, but my anger was still so forefront in my mind, it was hard to stay polite. I guess years of self-isolation dulled my sense of social protocol.

"Because you haven't said anything other than 'Hey' to me this morning," she said, her tone gentle, but I also heard a touch of hurt in there.

"I'm fine, Annie," I said, offering a bit of a smile to hopefully calm her. "Just dealing with some family issues."

The hand on my arm squeezed a bit. "Your mom make another visit?" she asked.

"No, thank goodness," I said with a laugh. "My father, actually."

"Oh, I don't think I've seen him," she said.

"Which was the reason for his visit," I replied with a scoff.

"Huh?"

I sighed. It was bad enough Annie was subjected to the histrionics of my over-protective mother, but I guess the more she knew, the less she'd be taken off guard.

"He came down here last night," I said, turning around to her. This was gonna be an involved story. "Much like my mother, they rarely come down here. I live my life, they live theirs, you know? But, I guess my mother's been talking about you coming here, and he heard, and he decided to suddenly be a father again and ask me what I've been up to lately."

"I'm sorry, Auggie."

"For what?" I asked. "You're not the ones who, after years now, decided to make a show of pretending their care about their son."

Even to my own ears, that sounded harsh, but as I said, my anger had been building up since last night.

"No, I'm not," Annie replied. "And I'm not going to sit here and pretend to understand what's going on, but, you know, I am sitting here. I'm not going anywhere, if you need to talk."

My head was shaking halfway through her speech. "No, Annie, I'm sorry you had to be subjected to my mother's kind of crazy, but there's no need –"

"Yes, there is," she interrupted. "I know we only met last week, but I feel like we've gotten to be friends."

I shook my head again, my own stubbornness wanting to push away everything and climb back into my little hole I've been in for the past few years. I was happy there, wasn't I?

"You can say no all you want, Auggie, but face it. We're working here, together, for a few months. I don't know about you, but I'd rather work with a friend than with a stranger."

Her hand was still on my arm, warm and soft, and coupled with her soothing voice and words, I found myself relenting and almost involuntarily leaning towards her. It'd been a long time since I'd been this close to a woman, and my heart and libido were perking up from their dormant stage.

"That is, unless you'd rather just stay co-workers," she said, after I guess I'd taken too long answering her. "It's no problem. I usually don't ingratiate myself with all the geniuses I work with like this, you know."

Her hand was sliding off of my arm, and I reached to keep it there, gripping her wrist. "No!" I nearly shouted, then, softening my hold and voice, I said again, "No, really. I'd like to, you know, be friends with you."

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"Yeah, okay. So, why don't we start this of the right way?" she asked, tapping my arm before withdrawing. I have to say, the loss of sudden loss of her warmth was palpable. "So, Auggie, how'd your weekend go?"

I laughed, but had to admit that, like Saturday, Annie succeed in breaking down and dismantling all my anger, anxiety, and excuses I'd built up to keep myself sequestered.

"Well," I began, after you dropped me off, I hung up my wind chime."

* * *

**A/N not sure about this chapter. Kind of stumbling on this story. Again. I really don't want to abandon it. I'm open and willing, and yeah, I guess, I'm begging for help. **

**Please review.**


	11. Chapter 11

**And so, faced with increasing frustration with the format and current storyline, the author is grabbing hold of this story with both hands, shaking it vigorously, and moving on.**

**For the following chapters, I am going back to my normal third person POV I usually write in. **

**I could just rewrite the whole thing, but I'm way too lazy for that. Enjoy.**

* * *

The following weekend, Annie found herself guilted into visiting Danielle and her girls Saturday. Yeah, it'd been a couple of weeks, but the way her sister was going on about it, it's like they hadn't seen each other for years.

Annie loved her nieces, without a doubt, and spending time within the loving family made her wish for a one herself. It'd been one of the glaring differences between the sisters. Danielle, married with children by 25, and Annie visited half the countries in the world by that age.

Now that she'd settled down somewhat, Annie felt the strirings again to start her own family, if only to have someone other than her cat greeting her when she came home from work.

"So, what kind of unpaid labor am I in for today," Annie teased as she entered her sister's kitchen. Delicious smells were already wafting through the air. "Mm, I smell bolognese."

"Don't touch that," Danielle said, entering the kitchen from her stocked pantry, arms laden with packages. "I just started it, and it takes hours before it's finished."

Annie's mouth salivated at the thought, along with her stomach growling in anticipation. "Okay, I guess I can wait," she pouted. "But what's all this?" she asked.

"PTA meeting tonight, and it's my turn to bring the cookies," Danielle said with a smile. She tossed an apron to Annie and whipped one over her own head. "We'll need 20 dozen, minimum."

"Danielle!"

"What? You think I should just go to the store and get those stale offerings?" Danielle scoffed. "That's what all the other moms do, but I refuse to feed people anything other than fresh, pure ingredients."

Annie raised her hands in surrender, knowing from experience with Danielle that once she got on a mothering kick, she was like a bear with her cubs, and nothing could hold her back. "Okay, and believe me, I agree. But what do you want me to do? I can't cook half as well as you can."

"But you can roll the dough into balls and place them on cookie sheets, right?" Danielle asked.

Annie sighed. Well, she thought, it'd certainly make the day go by quickly, and she'd have some spaghetti bolognese to look forward to when they were done. With that thought in mind, she rolled up her sleeves, slid on her apron, and proceeded to the cupboards to pull out the cookie sheets.

A few hours later, Annie was silently decrying the state of her manicure and was feeling the effects of a sugar high from a handful of pilfered cookies. But the last of them were in the oven, and she sat on a stool downing a bottle of water to counteract the sugar while Danielle attended to her sauce on the stove.

"Thanks, sweetie, for helping me do this. I'd ask the girls, but they seem to think cooking is a contact sport and wind up throwing things."

Annie laughed. "No problem. I'm always happy to help."

Her phone rang, and she retrieved it from her purse. The caller ID said, "Auggie," and she silently glided out onto the porch before answering. "Hey, Auggie."

"Annie, hi. How are you?"

"Tired, but fully satiated."

"What?" Auggie asked with a laugh.

"Danielle roped me into helping her cook for her PTA meeting," Annie explained. "I've been baking cookies all morning."

"Sounds like fun."

"Well, the benefits are nice. How's your weekend going?"

"So far, so good, but if you don't mind, I have a favor to ask of you."

He sounded apprehensive, and though Annie knew they'd made great strides over the week to being good friends rather than just co-workers, she could tell he wasn't sure whether or not she'd accept.

"If it'll get me out of Danielle's kitchen, I'd say you'd be doing me a favor," she replied.

"Well, remember me telling you about my father asking about you?"

"Yes." Of course, I did, Annie thought. It was the closest they'd came to an argument earlier in the week. At the time, her heart went out to Auggie, who obviously had all the trappings of wealth, but no one but the butler to share his life with. Well, that and his online world. He'd also confessed to spending his day after work at his personal computer, talking to his "friends" and playing games.

"They've - my mother and father - have asked me to invite you to dinner tonight. It's nothing fancy, but -"

"I'd love to," Annie replied, before he could delve into all the excuses she could feel he was gearing up to give. "What time should I be there?"

"Are you sure, Annie?"

"Yes, I'm sure. I can even bring dessert, if your parents don't mind cookies as a last course."

"Who cares what they like. I'd love some cookies," Auggie replied with a laugh.

"I'll see if I can grab an extra few for you," she said.

They talked for a more minutes before hanging up, and Annie headed back into the house, the smile on her face not going unnoticed by her sister who was standing at the counter, looking at her expectantly.

"What?" Annie asked.

"What's his name?"

"Who?" Annie asked, avoiding her gaze as she grabbed up her water bottle and resumed her seat.

"Don't make me beg, Annie. You took a phone call, went outside to talk to the person, and came back in with a smile I haven't seen on your face in years. It has to be a man. So, spill."

Leave it to the one person she'd known her whole life to see through her, Annie thought. "Fine, fine. And before you start making wedding plans, we're just friends. He's a co-worker, the latest I'm working with from his home."

"Are you allowed to do that? I mean, get friendly with these old guys?"

Annie laughed. "All the other people I've worked with have been older guys, Danielle. Auggie isn't. He's in his late 20s, an Army veteran, a genius, and he's really funny."

"And?" Danielle prompted.

"And what?"

"What's he look like? So far, aside from the age, he sounds like all your other co-workers."

Annie rolled her eyes. Danielle was always the romantic of the two. "Fine," she said, rolling her eyes. "He's tall, built, with wavy brown hair and a really chiseled jaw. His eyes are so gorgeous, a deep brown. You wouldn't think by looking at him that he's blind."

Small chunks of the cookie Danielle was eating went flying across the counter, which thankfully was free of the ones they just made. Annie handed her a towel and a drink and sat back.

Once Danielle cleaned up her mess, she said, "Annie, did you just say this Auggie guy is blind?"

"Yes, I did," Annie said, vaguely annoyed at her sister's over-the-top and unnecessary response. "Do you have a problem with that?"

"Oh, no, no, of course not," Danielle said, wiping up her mangled cookie and tossing it in the trash. "It just, you know, surprised me. You could have started the conversation with that, you know."

"Why? It's not the first thing I think of when I think of Auggie, so," she said with a shrug. "Anyway, he's invited me to dinner tonight with his parents, and I promised to bring cookies as a dessert, so if you could box up about a dozen of these, I'd appreciate it."

"Oh, yes, of course," Danielle said, hurrying to grab one of the boxes. "All those parents tonight shouldn't eat too many cookies, anyway. Here you go. And call me tomorrow with how they liked them, okay?"

"I will. Thanks, Dani," Annie said, giving her big sister a hug before heading out the door. She sent a quick text to Auggie to tell him that the cookies have been procured, and she'd see him later. Now, she thought, on to wardrobe choices as she did her laundry. Given the Andersons obvious wealth, and Mrs. Anderson's couture dress when she met her last week, it was time to break out the Loubotins and Chanel.

* * *

**A/N Now, that's how I should have written the story from the beginning. I cranked this chapter out in a couple of hours, and have ideas for the rest. THANK YOU to the few reviewers who gave me their input. It seems you all have the same ideas of what you'd like to see, and that's what I was thinking of, myself. Love you guys to bits!**

**Please review.**


	12. Chapter 12

It'd been months since Auggie stepped foot in the main house, and more time than that had passed since he'd been in the company of both his mother and father. And, he soon found out, nothing changed. James came to retrieve him, and once he entered the house, he was sat in the living room, a drink pressed into his hand, and the two other people in the house, save James, were chatting amongst themselves.

His teeth ground, and his fingers ground into the fine cloth of his suit. He hated dressing up like this, but he knew his mother would expect it, and to tell the truth, he wanted to look nice for Annie. He promised himself to make tonight up to her, starting with never making her do this ever again.

When he'd called earlier this morning, he expected and almost hoped she'd bow out, but she hadn't, and so here he was. Well, he thought, it was only a few hours, and then he could go back to his normal life.

"James, I believe I hear Ms. Walker driving up, if you could meet her at the door?" his mother said.

Auggie immediately stood, his cane at the ready. "No, I'll do it," he said.

He could hear his mother start to protest, but he didn't care one bit about her so-called social protocols. There wasn't anyone here to impress, and from what he knew about Annie, she wouldn't care one way or another.

* * *

Annie sat in her car, staring up at the near-mansion, her hands clenching the steering wheel. She'd been so excited for this dinner all day, but now a wave of nervousness washed over her. The only time she'd met one of these people, she'd been called names and screamed at for no reason. Then, Auggie confessed that his father was asking about her. Never before had she infiltrated a co-worker's family as much as she was doing now.

But, she reminded herself, never before had she met anyone like Auggie. As perfect a specimen of man as she'd ever met, but a life that had been stifled and nearly strangled and snuffed out. She knew deep down, though, that even if he weren't blind, she'd still feel drawn to him. Just the way he listened to her, kept her spirits up, worked alongside her, and made her laugh.

If anything, she was throwing herself in the lion's den now for him. If she was the reason his parents were suddenly giving him a hard time, she refused to let him face them alone.

So, she thought, why was she balking now? She let out a huge sigh and looked up at the door again, only to see it opening. Expecting to see the hulking butler, James, there, her mouth dropped open when Auggie stepped into the breech, his tall, muscular frame in a dark blue, tailored suit. She'd seen him in nothing but jeans and a t-shirt for the past two weeks, so the transformation was stunning.

"Annie?"

Her name on his lips brought her out of her reverie, and she quickly grabbed her purse, the tin of cookies, and got out of her car. "I'm here, Auggie."

A smile stretched across his face, making his "GQ" look even more devastating, and Annie had to admit her heart seemed to flutter slightly in her chest. She took the few steps up to the door quickly and reached out to touch his sleeve.

"What took you so long? I heard you drive up a few minutes ago," he asked. "Trying to plan your escape route?"

"Of course not," Annie said with a laugh. Then, quietly, "Just remembering the last time I met one of your parents."

His hand came up to her shoulder. "I'd love to promise they'll behave, but I can't. If you ever want to leave, just tell me. We can head back to my place, eat pizza, and watch a movie."

"Now, that'd be a sight, watching you eating pizza in Hugo Boss," she teased.

He smiled. "Probably as good as you'd look. This feels awfully expensive," he said, his fingers gliding along the fabric of her suit.

For a few seconds, Annie wondered why she'd been so emphatic on insisting on them being friends, 'cause a night like he just mentioned sounded like heaven to her. "It is. Didn't want to look dowdy in front of your parents."

"You'd look wonderful in anything," he said.

Before their little flirrtfest could go any further, another voice emerged from the open door.

"Auggie, is there anything wrong? Oh, there you two are," the Mrs. Anderson said, her head peeking through the door. "Please, come in. We were just having a drink before dinner."

His cane before him, Auggie offered Annie his arm, who accepted it graciously. As long as she had him for a lifeline, she thought, she could get through anything. "Thank you, Mrs. Anderson. And may I say, it was an honor to be invited into your lovely home."

Annie could see a tic flash on Auggie's face at her words, but she hoped he didn't say anything, or give her away. She'd let this woman dress her down once, and she refused to do it again. Years of experience traveling the world and meeting people had given her enough background on the type of woman Auggie's mother was. HIgh born, high bred, and expectant of others around her to do the same.

It was a game to be played, and Annie intended on playing her role to the fullest, if only to give Auggie a break and get his parents off his back and leave him in peace.

"Oh, well, thank you, and please, call me Serena."

And so she was in, Annie thought. "You're welcome, Serena."

She and Auggie walked into what she assumed was a living room of sorts, although it resembled a museum in her opinion. Auggie's small house showed the same obvious wealth, but at least his taste in furnishings was minimalistic, whereas the elder Andersons seemed to flaunt their wealth and travels.

"Ms. Walker, I presume, I've heard a lot about you," said a man who could only be Auggie's father as they entered the room. The same height as Auggie, but perhaps slightly larger, with graying hair and blue eyes to Auggie's brown.

"Father, this is Annie Walker," Auggie said beside her, and Annie raised her hand to shake his. "Annie, this is my father, Daniel Anderson."

"Thank you for inviting me here tonight, Mr. Anderson. Auggie's told me so much about his family, it's a pleasure to finally meet you all."

A look Annie didn't miss passed over Auggie's face and between his parents. She let it pass as James handed her a glass of wine. She smiled warmly at the man, who returned it. "Thank you, James."

"My pleasure, Miss Walker."

She'd taken a sip of her wine when she remembered the tin that she still gripped in her other hand. "Oh, I'm sorry. Forgive me for being so forward, but these are for dessert, or after, if you'd like. My sister, Danielle, is quite the cook, and sent these along."

"Hey, you promised me some of those," Auggie half-whispered to her, as she handed the tin over to James.

"Yours are in the car," Annie replied on a whisper. Then, addressing his parents, "Danielle runs a quite successful catering business."

"Does she? Well, thank you very much, Annie."

Auggie's head ducked down to her ear, and he whispered, "Sorry, I forgot to tell her you were bringing dessert."

"It's okay," Annie said. "As long as you like them."

"I'm sure I will."

Their tete-a-tete was interrupted by James announcing the food was ready, and she accompanied Auggie along the hallway into the dining room behind his parents. Annie nearly found herself giggling at all of the pomp and circumstance, given that no one else was there but for the four of them.

Her own upbringing with Danielle and her Mom and Dad at Army bases around the world usually consisted of everyone pitching in to help create whatever they felt like eating that night, and then talking amongst themselves as they ate. She'd wondered these past two weeks about the obvious chip on Auggie's shoulder, and she was slowly coming to see where the anger and angst was coming from.

As Auggie led her to her seat, she made sure to give his hand a squeeze as he settled in beside her.

* * *

If Auggie had any doubts about Annie's ability to deal with his overbearing parents, they were erased within the first couple of minutes after she crossed over the threshold. With every day that he knew her, Annie Walker had never ceased to amaze him, and he couldn't believe he was thinking this, but he couldn't wait for dinner.

Since he was a child, he'd witnessed hundreds of these "society dinners," eating silently as the adults chatted amongst themselves - usually nonsense and thinly veiled insults and asides. That kind of shallowness never appealed to him, and as he grew up, he rebelled against anything that resembled it.

Annie, whom he found to be the polar opposite of his mother, though, seemed to be giving just as much fake charm and civility back to his mother as she was receiving. He'd never seen someone stand toe-to-toe with his mother before, save his father. Though he'd been regretting asking her to dinner ever since this morning, he now wouldn't miss it for the world.

* * *

**A/N So glad I moved to 3rd person POV. Story's flowing much better now. THANK YOU To all the reviewers, signed and anonymous. Love all of your ideas and help and support.**

**So, you ready for "the dinner"? *rubs hands together* It's gonna be fun watching Annie/Auggie versus Serena/Daniel. Who's gonna win this eight-course battle to the death? **

**LOL Just kidding.**

**Please review!**


	13. Chapter 13

The dinner table, large, beautiful, with a lace table runner and a tasteful centerpiece looked almost overpowering with just four people sitting around it, Annie thought. Auggie had sat at a corner near the head of the table and pulled the chair out next to him for her.

She sat without a thought, but then noticed that there wasn't a place setting in front of her, and Auggie's parents, who sat at opposite ends of the table, were looking at her. A place setting sat across the table, apparently for her, and she went to stand up.

"Auggie, I think I'm supposed to sit over there," she whispered.

"No, it's fine," Serena piped up, waving her hand around to get James' attention. "Could you move Miss Walker's place setting?"

"Of course, ma'am," James said, picking up the plate and myriad of silverware and placing them beside Auggie's.

"Thanks, James. Sorry to cause any trouble," Annie said. She looked up at the rather imposing man, expecting a frown, but he seemed to be hiding a smile, and as their eyes met, he gave her a small wink.

"No trouble at all, Miss Walker."

Auggie's hand found hers under the table, and he gave it a squeeze. "So, Mother, what are we eating tonight?"

Her hand waved in the air again, and Annie's eyes widened as two women came into the room from what she assumed was the kitchen, their hands full of bowls.

"Our first course is a soup, carrot vichyssoise. Auggie didn't mention to us if you have any food allergies, Annie."

"No, I'm fine," Annie said. The bowl of thick orange soup was sat in front of her, and she had to admit, it looked delicious. She picked up her spoon and took a sip. The clink of silverware around her showed that the others had dug in, and she turned to watch Auggie doing the same.

"Have you ever had vichyssoise, Annie?"

* * *

And so it begins, Auggie though. He had a feeling that his mother wouldn't just let this be a regular dinner, with small talk, and let them go at the end with a "nice to have met you."

Though her question was simple, her tone was evident to him, and though he wasn't touching Annie, he could feel the air next to him tense up a bit. Her first day at work, Annie had barely gotten a word out as his mother lashed at her, but so far, she'd held her own.

"Yes, many times," Annie replied. "I first had it at La Cristal Room in Paris."

A barely perceptible choking sound came from his left, and Auggie bit back a laugh and ladled another spoonful of the soup into his mouth. It was quite delicious – his parents had employed one of the best chefs in the country – but he was pretty sure it paled in comparison.

"Oh, really?" his father asked. "When were you in Paris?"

While his mother's tone was somewhat condescending, his father's was full of interest and wonder. "You've done it now, Annie," he said. "Father spent his last year of college at the American University of Paris."

"Did you?" Annie asked.

"Yes, and I assume you did so, also? Perhaps an internship, or –"

"Oh, no," Annie replied. "No, I was traveling around Europe. Spent a few months in France, and then Portugal."

Auggie had finished his soup and sipped his wine, listening to Annie expound on her travels. She'd told him about her travels, and, of course, he knew all the languages she could speak. He'd done his own time outside the nation's borders, but traveling on the Army's dime was nothing compared to what Annie did. He was simultaneously proud and jealous of her. That second feeling sort of took him by surprise, considering his solitary status of the past few years.

"So, you were quite the gypsy, then?" his mother asked, as Annie paused in her story. "Backpacking across Europe sounds quite…interesting."

Auggie didn't hide the roll of his eyes as he turned his head towards his mother. An insult was forming in his mind and nearly across his tongue when Annie answered her.

"I wouldn't describe it as that. After graduation, I wanted to experience the languages I was learning, study different dialects and history."

"Annie is a multilingual translator, Mother," Auggie said rather emphatically. "She is fluent in French, Spanish, Italian, Russian, and Arabic, and has a rudimentary knowing of a handful of other languages. You don't pick that up hitching across Europe."

Stone silence greeted him, and he pictured her mouth hanging open for a few seconds before slamming it shut and probably waving her hand for the next course to be served. His assumption was apparently correct, 'cause he heard footsteps and the clink of bowls being removed.

A shift of fabric to his side, then Annie's soft hand reached his under the table. It squeezed once, and he returned the affection.

"Burgundy salad?" Auggie heard his father ask. "Something I've had in Paris."

Annie laughed, making family dinner, for the first time in Auggie's memory, something other than dry and soul-sucking. His mother's contributions still bordered on the condescending, but more out of habit than intentional insults. He wondered through the lamb course if he should be insulted that it was never this cordial and friendly throughout his life, but he pushed that away. Though he held onto some grudges like a lifeline – with good reason – begrudging Annie's presence in his life the past two weeks was something he couldn't do.

Once the dessert course came, his mother tried to sound apologetic to Annie that she'd planned a chocolate crème brulee. Annie took it in stride. "Oh, no problem. I've never had chocolate crème brulee. It sounds absolutely delicious."

* * *

Fully satiated with some of the best food she'd had in a while, Annie sat back after clearing her final dish and sipped at her glass of water. Well, she thought, the dinner went much better than she ever could have imagined. Her previous encounter with Mrs. Anderson and Auggie's obvious annoyance with his father had her on guard when she arrived.

"Well, mother, that was excellent," Auggie said.

"Why, thank you, Auggie. And Annie, we'll be sure to sample those cookies you set later on tonight or perhaps tomorrow."

"No hurry," Annie said. "And thank you for a wonderful evening."

"Shall we, Annie?" Auggie said, standing and putting his hand out to her. She took it, expecting him to lead her back toward the living room, for perhaps some coffee or more wine, but his cane tapped through the room, down the hallway, and to the front door.

"Give me a ride back to my place?" he asked as the front door shut behind them.

"We're just leaving?" Annie asked.

Their handholds switched so she could lead him to their car, and he didn't respond until they were both seatbelted in. "I thought I'd save you from any more thinly veiled insults from my mother and not-so-disguised flirting from my father."

"Auggie, your father was not flirting with me," Annie replied.

"Okay, maybe not flirting, but he's certainly never asked about all the places I've traveled to over the years."

Annie risked a glance over to his face and saw in the dim light of the setting sun the frown on his face. Though she would've counted the dinner as a success, the years of history between Auggie and his parents obviously wouldn't be smoothed over in a few hours.

"I guess I did sort of monopolize the conversation," she said by way of an apology. "Sorry about that."

"Wasn't your fault. Like I said, once Father starts talking about Paris, there's no stopping him."

"Have you ever been?" Annie asked.

"Nope. The Army frowns on dispatching its Special Forces soldiers to vacation spots."

Annie laughed. "Special Forces. It takes a certain kind of man to belong to a group like that."

"One that doesn't mind sand in his shorts?"

"Auggie, come on, I'm serious," Annie said, though she was still laughing. They'd reached his house, and she slid the car into park and turned to him. "Most people would look on you as a hero, you know."

That took the frown off his face.

"I'm not sure about that," he replied.

"Well, I am. You, Auggie Anderson, are a hero, a man who went where most people would never go, and yeah, a tragedy happened, but you came back."

* * *

Warmed by Annie's words, Auggie couldn't help but remember what she'd told him the day they met about her own father, who'd died in combat. He'd been so lost in his head and self-absorbed, he'd forgotten how lucky he really was.

"Thank you, Annie," he said. "Now, I hate to change the subject so abruptly, but you did say something about cookies, right?"

"Yep."

"Would you like to come in?" he asked. When she didn't reply right away, he realized how that might have sounded and quickly added, "I don't mean I expect anything to happen. I just thought you'd like to wind down before driving home."

"Actually, that sounds like a good idea."

* * *

**A/N I have a feeling no amount of intervention could turn these three people into the Brady Bunch. **

**Please review.**


	14. Chapter 14

A text from Joan had Annie driving to HQ Monday morning. It'd been two weeks since the dinner party, or as they now called it, "awkwardness personified." Annie thought the phrase wordy, but Auggie insisted, so she went along with it. After the dinner, they'd sat in his house, drank milk and ate cookies. Auggie'd offered wine, but Annie reminded him she had to go home after.

It hadn't mattered, though. Annie had commiserated with him, now that she'd gotten a glimpse of his family dynamic. Her own family life had been vastly different, with her nomadic Army base hopping father.

Their relationship, from that night on, had crossed the line into true friendship, and the past two weeks had been fun for Annie. This past weekend, she'd had plans, but the weekend before, she'd taken him again to the Farmer's Market.

She missed seeing him this morning and hoped Joan's request for a one-on-one wasn't to pull her off the project. There was still a couple of months left, and she hoped they could remain friends afterwards, or maybe even something more. She didn't want to push him further than he was comfortable, but she could tell his friendliness was bordering on flirtation half the time now.

She parked her car in the garage and headed up to the offices, wanting to get out of this building, out of the city, and back to the almost paradise-like setting of the Anderson estate.

Joan was talking to her assistant outside of her office and waved Annie in when she saw her. "Annie, great to see you again. Please, come in. We have a lot to talk about."

"Thank you, Joan. It's great to see you, as well."

She was led to the silver-grey couch alongside the wall-sized windows. "Please, have a seat. I wanted to talk to you about your work over the past month."

"Okay," Annie said warily. "Has there been anything wrong with it?"

"Oh, no. Everything's been excellent. Auggie's one of our best tech guys here. It's him I want to talk about, actually."

"Auggie's been great to work with. We make a great team and have become friends, actually."

"Really?"

"Yes, he's a great guy. I've met his parents, and he's accompanied me to the Farmer's market a couple of weekends."

The shock on Joan's face was almost comical. "Really? How did that happen?"

"I asked him," Annie said simply. "Why are you so surprised? I know he's been holed up there, but I thought it was just because he works alone, and as far as I can tell, has no visitors whatsoever."

Joan sighed and leaned back on the couch a bit. "Yes, that's pretty much by choice, not by circumstance, to tell you the truth. I hired him because of his intellect and drive and background, but despite my efforts to acclimate him, I could tell that Auggie was used to being in control and in charge of his situation. Suffice to say, no one would let him."

"I wish I had been here during that time," Annie said.

"Now that I can see your effect on him, I wish that, as well. He was a soldier, a born leader, but it seemed nobody would let him. They fawned on him, condescended to him. Perhaps I could have done more to stop it, but you know what they say about hindsight. It proved too much for Auggie, especially being so soon after losing his sight."

"I can't believe my coworkers would act like that," Annie said. "It kind of makes how he acted towards me the first couple of days we worked together."

"Oh, yes, I remember your e-mail."

"It was so mortifying, Joan. I stood there, with my hand held out, the biggest smile on my face," Annie said with a self-deprecating laugh.

"But, still, you've gotten to be friends."

"Yes, we have."

"You know, I had assumed the home assignment for him would just be temporary, but he's thrown back every offer I've made. Is he happy there, Annie?"

She sighed. "He seems content, but happy? I can't say yes. His parents, Joan, are the clichéd rich and snobby couple who almost appear ashamed of their 'disabled' son."

"I hate to ask this of you, Annie, but would you talk to him about coming back? He's much too intelligent to be just a tech analyst. I had originally planned on making him head of the department. I'd hate to have him stuck where he is now just because of the prejudice of a few people."

Annie knew what was being asked of her, and she told Joan she would, but on the drive out of the city to join Auggie for the rest of the day, she couldn't imagine how to approach him about the subject.

* * *

"So, called into HQ on a Monday morning? Are you in trouble, or are we?"

Annie laughed at his jest and set about setting up her workstation. "No, Joan just wanted a face-to-face about how well we were getting along, you know."

"Do you have to do that with every project you're sent on?" Auggie asked.

"No, actually, it's the first time it happened," Annie replied. The words were out before she could realize how it sounded.

Auggie sighed beside her and turned in his office chair to face her. "So, she was checking up on me, then, huh?"

Annie so wanted to play it off and lie, but it wouldn't be fair to her, him, or the friendship they'd cultivated over the past month. "Yes, Auggie, she was."

The frustration and anger she'd witnessed a few times over the past four weeks flashed over his face again. "Should have known. Thought she was on my side."

"She is, Auggie. And so am I."

"Oh, really?" Auggie asked with a smirk. "And what did you two talk about this morning? How to drag me out of my cave, whether I want to or not?"

"That's not what it was about, Auggie," Annie implored. "She actually said she wanted to promote you to head of the department."

"Joan's delusional. My experience in that office showed me that no one would be comfortable in taking leadership from a blind guy," Auggie said, swinging his chair rather forcefully back to his desk.

"So, you're just gonna stay here?" Annie asked. "For the rest of your life, with no visitors and only James to talk to?"

"What the hell do you know about what I want?" Auggie exploded, coming to his feet and sending his chair flying back. "You have no idea what it's like, Annie! I thought that you understood me, what I've gone through. Now I see you're just like them, not caring how I feel, and only want me to just get back up on the horse and try and try again."

His words hurt, Annie thought, and he knew they were meant to do so. He turned to stomp away – probably to his bedroom – but Annie refused to let this be. She stood, as well, and grabbed his arm, stopping his progress.

"Auggie, come on. That's not fair. I do care about you and about what you want," she cried.

He let her arm stay him, and he turned back toward her. The obvious hurt on his face was almost palpable, and her heart ached for him. She reached up to cup his jaw with her other hand.

"All we want – all I want is for you to believe in yourself and give it one more chance. I can see how unhappy you are here, Auggie. It may be comfortable and safe, but…"

Her voice trailed off as any argument she could think of died on her lips. He looked almost broken, as if she'd taken any trust they'd built up and trampled on it beneath her stilettos, and it broke her heart.

She couldn't bear to see that look in his eyes, and running on nothing but instinct at this point, she reached up the few inches that separated their height and softly pressed her lips against his.

She half-expected him to push her back, accuse her of more backstabbing, and stomp away, but he didn't. Her decision to kiss him was simply to ease his hurt, but it instantly morphed into something more. His stance and demeanor softened, and his hands rose to clench at her shoulders. He pulled her closer for a few seconds as the kiss lengthened, but just as quickly pushed her back.

His breath was heavy, and the hurt was gone, but only to be replaced with confusion and uncertainty.

"Auggie?"

He swallowed hard and took a further step back. "I – I think we should call it a day, okay?"

"Auggie, please," Annie said, missing his touch almost as soon as he let go of her.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Annie, okay? I've just – I've got a lot to think about."

"Oh, okay."

He nodded, and retreated back further into the house. When his bedroom door closed, Annie had to stop herself from going after him. A lot had happened over the past five minutes, and she had a lot to think about herself.

She quickly sent Joan an e-mail that Auggie wasn't feeling well, and they were both taking a sick day. She then quietly packed her stuff and went home.

* * *

**A/N Well, what do you think? About time, huh? :)**

**Please review.**


	15. Chapter 15

Only the instinct of living in the same house for a few years drove Auggie to his bedroom, and then to his bed where he fell face long onto it, grabbing a pillow and holding it to him. He was trying very hard to keep the anger building inside of him down to a minimum, though it raged inside.

Why? he thought. That one question bounced around his head until it became a near buzz. Why did she have to ruin everything? He almost didn't know what to do with himself this past weekend, considering the past three had been spent with Annie in some form or another. He did his normal routine purely on instinct, but always felt something was missing.

He'd realized Sunday afternoon that it was her, Annie Walker. They'd known each other less than a month, but he suddenly couldn't go a day without thinking about her. Pre-blind August Anderson would've known what to do, but without the visual cues he was used to be able to pick up on, he never knew anymore whether a woman was sincere or not.

He'd decided to take a chance today, small steps, baby steps to ascertain her feelings for him. Well, he thought with a sardonic scoff into the pillow he was holding, you certainly got what you asked for.

He'd told her, he knew, a few times how uncomfortable it was for him in the office. Surely she understood by now. He expected her to be on his side.

His lips pressed together as the memory of their kiss flooded through him. It'd been years, literally, since he'd been with a woman. Though he was angry when she'd grabbed his arm and pushed herself to him, his body responded like a thirsty man being handed a glass of water. She was softer and tasted sweeter than anyone he'd ever known. It'd taken every ounce of self-control to push her away.

He'd wanted her, wanted what she was offering, but he didn't want it like this. He'd planned on asking her out, for a real date, test the waters. Well, he thought. If anything, she answered one question. She was interested.

But whether or not she'd ever come back was another question.

* * *

Not that many people paid attention to the butler, but if they looked close enough into James' situation at the Anderson estate, they'd wonder and ask him why he stayed for so long - over two decades now. It paid well – really well, actually, but mainly it was because of the little boy he'd met there: August Anderson, the only son of his employers. Even back then, he could tell the boy had too much spirit and energy for the too-busy mother and father to keep up with.

James had spent his own years after high school in the Army. He'd still be there, had an injury not sidelined him. He accepted the honorable discharge and moved on, but kept those beliefs of loyalty, honesty, and integrity with him his whole life.

He felt drawn to Auggie Anderson since day one and made it his own personal mission to stay on and make sure he grew up with the same beliefs. He knew if he hadn't, the Andersons would've sent him off to some boarding school and only saw him on holidays.

As such, Auggie grew well and went himself into the Army and rose through the ranks. James couldn't have been more proud if he were his own son. It broke his heart when he came home bandaged and hurt. James tried to pull him up, but Auggie had his father's stubbornness, a trait that served him well in a general sense, but, as James saw Miss Walker's car flying down the road not ten minutes after arriving, James knew what had happened, and he decided he had enough.

Still in shape despite his 50-plus years, James ran from the main house to Auggie's smaller one within five minutes. The effort pumped him full of adrenaline, which was a good thing, 'cause what he was about to do severely crossed the lines of employer and employee.

The door was still unlocked from when Annie left, and he swung it open. He didn't bother announcing himself, only swept the area with his keen eyesight. Nothing in the main living room, nothing in the kitchen. His computers were still on in his office, so that left one remaining place.

The walls fairly shook with the brute strength with which he opened the door. "On your feet, soldier."

He didn't shout it, but his meaning and deep voice were as good as a shout.

"What? Who is that?"

Auggie was laying, still dressed, full length on his bed, hugging his pillow to his chest. The sight was so pitiful that James nearly relented.

"I said, on your feet, soldier. You won't want me to repeat that."

"James? What the hell?" Auggie asked, getting to his feet. "What are you doing here? What –"

"No, you aren't the one asking questions here. You are answering them. The main one being why the best thing to happen to you since the desert just left skid marks on the driveway."

"James, please."

"God, Auggie. If your instructors could see you now," James said with a sardonic laugh. "They'd wonder if that bomb hadn't taken your manhood along with your sight."

That remark hit true, and Auggie straightened up and started to resemble the strong, capable man James knew him to be. "That's better. Now, you want to explain to me what the hell happened?" he asked.

James could see the emotions rolling over Auggie's face and through his body language. He really didn't want to cause this man who was as close to a son as he'd ever had any more pain, but this needed to be done.

Finally, Auggie took a deep breath and began to speak. "Annie had to go into the office this morning and only just got here about a half hour ago. Joan asked her to try to get me to come back to the office."

James waited for Auggie to keep talking, but by the set of his jaw, it looked like he was done. "That's it?"

"Isn't that enough? Isn't it obvious? They can't just leave me alone, no. They've got to try to manipulate me and push me into something I'm not willing to do right now."

James nodded and took a deep breath. Stubborn, he thought, just like his father. "Come with me," he said, walking out of the bedroom and into the living room where he sat on the couch. Auggie joined him after a few seconds.

"I'm not mad at Joan. She sends me e-mails every month asking me to come back. It's Annie," he said with a shake of his head. "I let her in, James. I thought she understood. I can't – I can't do that anymore."

"It looked like her argument was pretty persuasive, or were you eating strawberries for lunch?" James asked.

Auggie's fingers wiped at his lips, taking the last of Annie's lipstick off. "I still can't believe she kissed me."

"So, let me get this straight," James said, leaning back on the couch and placing his right ankle on his left knee. "For years now, you've been holed up here, by yourself, no visitors. A beautiful woman comes to you a month ago, dragging you out of this hole you dug yourself in. You make friends with her – more than friends now, I can see – and you throw her out because she believes in you enough to want you to rejoin the world."

"Well –" his mouth opened and closed several times as James' words rolled around in his head.

"I have a feeling you've burnt every bridge with this woman, Auggie. The next step is yours. So, what'll it be? Stay the course or set out?"

It took a couple of minutes of Auggie staring straight ahead, sighing and rubbing his face with his hands before it seemed as though he'd made a decision. When that happened, he turned to James and grinned.

"Give me a ride?"

* * *

**A/N James to the rescue! Well, what do you think? :)**

**Didn't notice 'til now that is kind of jacked up and "in the process" of rolling out fixes. Don't know if you can review w/o signing in, or other stuff. Bummer! **

**Please review.**


	16. Chapter 16

Auggie wasn't even sure if Annie realized he knew her address. Can't go back now, he thought. There were so many questions, so many unknowns assailing his brain as they drove into Georgetown. What if she didn't go directly home? What if she didn't live alone? Would she have kissed him like she did if she had a boyfriend? Was it just a diversion?

"Auggie, calm down," James said from beside him. "I can hear your gears grinding."

Auggie took a deep breath and sighed. "Maybe I should've called first."

"No. Best to get it over with. Too much time's been wasted as it is."

Auggie had never known James to be so verbose before – not since he was a kid. "Why are you doing this, anyway?" he asked.

"Because your boss and Annie are right."

Auggie scoffed. "Geez, not you, too."

"Yes, me, too. Losing your sight was a shock, yes. Nobody can fault you for your actions back then. But you've had years now to acclimate to your new reality. This pity party you've thrown for yourself is over."

Auggie didn't reply to James' stark portrayal of his life. He didn't have to because everything he said was right. James had never lied to him his entire life. He was one of the few people he trusted implicitly. Another was Joan, and the newest, of course, was Annie.

It'd been less than an hour ago, but he could still feel her lips on his. He'd pushed aside his instant attraction he'd felt from day one 'cause he figured at the time it was because he hadn't been with a woman in a long while. But now, a month later, he wondered where he'd gotten the strength to push her away.

All too soon, he felt the car slow and stop. His hand reached for the door handle.

"I'll get you up to her doorway, but the rest is up to you," James said.

"If she's even home," Auggie said quietly.

"Her car's here. I'd assume she is, as well. Now, come on. You won't get the answers you need from that door handle."

XXX

Annie had ditched her stilettos and was pacing her living room in her bare feet when the doorbell rang. The unfamiliar sound startled her, and she hesitated to see who it was. The neighborhood was safe enough, but usually nobody knocked on the door unless they were invited or was a delivery person. After the second ring, her curiosity got the best of her.

Through the fisheye of the peephole was a sight she never thought she'd see – ever, and especially not after her behavior a little while ago.

Her fingers hastily undid the chain and locks and swung it open. "Auggie," she breathed.

He smiled, though she saw it didn't quite reach his eyes. "So, you are home. I was getting ready to have James drive me back."

"James?" Annie asked.

"Yeah, he gave me a ride and five minutes before he headed back out."

"James gave you a ride here?" Annie asked. "Why?"

The smile slid completely off of his face, and his head ducked down. "Because I asked him to. I know, I should have called. You're probably busy, and –"

"No, it's fine. Come in," Annie said, her mind finally clicking back into gear. She bumped her arm against his and waited until he had a firm grip on her elbow before she led him in. "Would you like to have a seat? Can I get you something to drink?"

She knew he didn't come over just to socialize, but she still felt almost embarrassed about how she'd grabbed him earlier and was running on instinct.

"No, it's okay," Auggie said, keep a grip on her arm as she went to pull away. "Just, can we talk for a minute?"

"Okay."

"Did you – did you mean it? Earlier?"

Though the question was cryptic, Annie answered automatically. "Yes, of course. You've come so far in the past month, Auggie. You may be comfortable and safe at your house, but I've seen you when we go out, as well. You're happy. You smile."

"No, that's not what I meant," Auggie said. Then, his voice quieter, "When you kissed me – when we kissed. Did you mean it?"

And just like that, they were propelled back to that moment an hour ago where he stood before her, hurt and frustration clouding his face, and she doing the only thing she could think of to erase it. Only this time, the hurt and frustration were replaced by nervousness and hope.

"Auggie," she breathed. Mimicking her movements from earlier, she reached up and cupped his jaw again. His eyes closed at the caress. "Yes, of course I meant it."

Some of the tension left his face, and he placed his hand on the back of hers, sliding it down so he could kiss her palm. The caress sent shivers down her arm.

"I'd pretty much given up on finding anyone," he said with a scoff, his words soft against her palm.

"Me, too," Annie confessed, taking a step forward. "And I'm sorry that Joan and I talked behind your back like that. I'll give her a call in the morning and tell her you're happy where you are."

"Except I'm not," Auggie said.

"What?"

"I'm saying that, once our little project is done," he said, taking a deep breath. "I'd like to return to HQ."

Auggie expected a bit of a panic attack once those words left his mouth, but it didn't come, which surprised him. Just this morning, he'd felt nervous at the thought of asking her out. Now they'd kissed, he was in her apartment, and just promised to do something he never thought he'd do – rejoin the world.

"Oh, wow, are you sure?" Annie asked. "Please say you're not just doing it because we badgered you into it. I couldn't bear –"

"Hey," Auggie said with a laugh. "I know I was angry, but I guess it was the only way to get the point across. You're right. Joan was right. Hell, even James was right. I've been acting like a whiny brat for years now. It's time to man up, be the soldier I was trained to be, and get on with the job."

Annie was about to throw her arms around his neck when her doorbell rang again.

"I wonder who that could be," she said, sliding out of Auggie's grasp. "I didn't even expect you, so…"

"It's probably James," Auggie said. "He said he'd leave if you were home, but –"

Annie went ahead and opened the door without checking first. She couldn't wait to thank James for bringing Auggie here, and helping them both see the truth.

That conversation, however, would have to wait until later. The smile on her face dropped as a dark-haired, blue-eyed man stood on the doorstep. "Hi, Annie."

"Ben."

Auggie's back immediately straightened at the mention of the man's name. No, he thought. No way in hell was he allowing this to happen. Annie had only talked about this man once, just a couple of days after she started working with him. They'd had something, but he'd dumped her without a word and was now trying to weasel his way back into her life.

By Auggie's calculations, he and Annie had more time together than they ever did, and by rights – and what all happened today - he was the winner here.

Retracing the route back to the door with confident steps, he said, "Annie? Who's at the door, sweetheart?" Yeah, he knew adding the endearment on the end was a bit much, but he was in full-on protective mode here.

His hand raised as he approached them, and he was inwardly glad it landed on her shoulder. Annie would probably not appreciate him patting her on the butt at this moment in time.

"Auggie, this is Ben."

"Ben, Annie's spoken of you," Auggie said, outstretching his hand to the front. It was a few seconds before he felt the man take his grip, and Auggie took a half second to posture and squeeze.

"Auggie, is it? Interesting. Annie's never mentioned you to me."

"That's because we haven't seen each other in years," Annie replied, and Auggie smiled at her icy tone. "Didn't you get my message, Ben?"

"Well, yeah, but I saw your car outside, and –"

"Just stop, Ben, okay? It's not going to happen."

"Come on, Annie."

Auggie heard a boot step and surmised that he was attempting to make his way into the apartment. One more, Auggie thought, and Ben will soon find out how a Special Forces soldier was trained to fight – blind or not.

"No, Ben!" Annie shouted, startling both the men was standing between. "I'm not sure what your game is right now, but we had what we had. It's over. I've moved on, and so should you. Do not contact me again."

The slamming of the door echoed around the apartment, and Auggie let loose the wide smile he'd been fighting. "Remind me never to get in an argument with you," he said. "Probably break my nose slamming the door on me."

She didn't reply, and Auggie groaned. "Look, Annie, I'm sorry for pushing myself on you like that. I just remember what you said about the guy, and –"

His apology was cut off as a warm body launched against his with soft arms winding around his neck. He didn't even wait a nanosecond to respond. His arms wound around her back, and he tucked his head into the crook of her neck and shoulder.

"You have no idea how good it felt to finally kick him to the curb," Annie said with a laugh, pulling back a little.

"Empowering, huh?" Auggie asked.

"Much better than sending a break-up text, definitely," she said. "Now, where were we?"

Auggie smiled. "Well, I telling you I'd decided to make a major change in my life, and you were about to kiss me congratulations."

Annie laughed and slid her hands down, her fingers taking in every muscle of his shoulders and chest. "Was I, now?"

"Well, maybe I was anticipating that last part," he replied. In fact, he was anticipating a lot more than that, especially now as her fingers lit the skin beneath the t-shirt he was wearing. "Maybe just lunch, and then a ride home? I'm assuming James would've left by now."

"Lunch, definitely," Annie replied. "And then, since we're playing hooky from work, think you'd be up to going to a matinee?"

Auggie nodded and dipped his head down to seal the deal. She met him halfway.


	17. Chapter 17

Annie paced the shining hardwood of Auggie's living room, from the door to the couch and back, her heels clicking loudly through the room. Each time she reached the door, her hand itched to open it. But no, she'd promised Auggie she'd wait here for him to return. And so, she resumed her pacing.

Just five days ago, he'd surprised her at her apartment with the news that he'd decided to take Joan up on her offer to work at HQ. For anyone else, it'd be a simple process, but Annie knew what a big step forward it was for Auggie. He'd withdrawn into this gilt-covered cave years ago, and she didn't want to think that she was the reason for his decision, but she hoped she'd still figure in his life in the future.

Auggie might think that his life was making a 180, but Annie knew hers would be, as well. In her conversations with Joan over the past week, they'd spoken about what would happen two months from now when their project was done. Joan thanked Annie profusely for doing what she thought was impossible and offered her a change of her own. A new batch of graduates were coming in, and Annie was moving up, as well, allowing the newbies to take over the at-home visits.

The change from the freedom of being out on her own to keeping office hours was tempered by the fact that she'd be working in the same building as Auggie.

Another lap around the living room, and Annie's nerves were wearing thin. It was Friday. They had just finished their work day, and Auggie said it was time to inform his parents of his decision. He'd promise he'd be back in an hour, but after 45 minutes had passed without word, Annie decided enough was enough.

Just as that thought crossed her mind, the door opened, and she whirled around to see Auggie's father coming through the door, Auggie's hand at his elbow. His mother and James followed through, shutting the door behind them.

She yearned to run to Auggie and pull him away from them, but he seemed at ease and smiling. Though she knew James was on their side, these were the same people who'd belittled and coddled him further into himself.

So, she stood there, waiting for someone to say something.

"I guess we have you to blame for this," Auggie's mother said, coming to stand on her son's other side.

That was enough for Annie's hackles to rise. "Yes, I am, and I have to say, if you cut Auggie off for doing this, it won't do any good. He can stay with me until he gets back on his feet again. He is too much of a healthy, intelligent, warm, and loving man to live like a hermit in a cave."

"Cave?" Auggie's father said with a laugh. "This place was appraised at a million dollars, and she calls it a cave."

"Father, please," Auggie said, squeezing the man's arm before letting go and walking over to Annie.

"I'm not kidding, Auggie," Annie said.

"I know you're not," he said, reaching out for her hand. Once their fingers entwined, he continued, "We've had a good talk, and though my parents are scared, to put it bluntly, they agree that it's time for me to leave the nest. Well, again, I guess I should say."

"You have James to thank, as well," his father said, stepping forward. "He's told us over the past month what's been happening. We figured it was a matter of time before all this happened."

Annie was so certain she'd be fighting for Auggie at this point, just stood there with her mouth hanging open, wondering what all happened in the last hour.

"Well," Auggie's mother said, clearing her throat and walking over to her husband, "I'm sure you two have plans for tonight or whatever, so we'll go now. Annie, I meant to ask you if your sister would be willing to make us some more of those delicious cookies."

"Uhh, yeah, sure," Annie said. "I'll tell her this weekend."

"Thanks. I'd love to meet her one day," she said with a smile. "Come on, let's leave them alone."

"Good-bye, Annie," they all said.

Annie reiterated their farewells, and it was only when the door shut, and she was alone with Auggie that her mind started to clear. "What the hell just happened?" she asked with a laugh.

"A lot of things, but what I remember most was the offer to move in with you," Auggie said. He walked over to the couch and sat them both down, which Annie was grateful for. The shock still had her knees a bit weak.

"Everything's okay? Really?" she asked, turning to him and taking both his hands in hers.

"Annie," Auggie said with a reassuring tone. "Your offer was very sweet and kind of sexy, but you should know I have my own money. Even if they had reacted badly and disowned me, I have a trust they can't touch, the earnings from my job, and the amount I received from the Army when I was discharged."

"Oh, okay," Annie said. "I never thought about that."

"Yeah, I could have left any time. Guess I just needed the right incentive to do so," he said, raising a hand to her face. His fingers slid along her hairline and tucked a few strands behind her ear. Annie's eyes closed at the caress. "And now I have."

"So, you're saying that if I hadn't come here, you'd still be back in that room, surly and growling, getting carpal tunnel from communicating only via computer?" Annie asked.

"Ouch," Auggie replied. "I don't ever remember growling at you. Besides, you gave back just as good as I gave."

"Yep," Annie said. "You can't get rid of me, no matter what you do."

"Now, why would I want to do that?"

Annie shook her head and leaned over to kiss him softly. "Because I'm pushy and hard-headed."

"And loyal and brave," Auggie added. "You'd make a hell of a soldier, Walker."

"Not sure about that. I'd look terrible with a buzz cut."

Auggie laughed aloud at that.

"So, we have the weekend to ourselves," Annie reminded him.

"Yes, yes, we do. Do you have any plans?" he asked.

"Nope."

"So, you're free tonight?"

"Yep."

"Would it be forward of me to ask you to dinner, Miss Walker?" he asked, a playful smile curling the ends of his lips up.

"No, it wouldn't."

"How about if we came back here afterwards?"

Annie knew what he was asking, and her hearted pounded in her chest at the prospect. The hand that'd been stroking along her jaw had her skin flushing out in goose bumps, and she caught it with hers. She brought his fingertips to her lips, kissing them softly.

"Good thing I brought a change of clothes, then, huh?"

"That's a very good thing," he replied.

* * *

**THE END**

**Hope you all enjoyed it. Please review.**


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